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The 

Landscape  Beautiful 


A Study  of  the  Utility  of  the  Natural 
Landscape,  Its  Relation  to  Human  Life 
and  Happiness,  With  the  Application  of 
These  Principles  in  Landscape  Garden- 
ing, and  in  Art  in  General 


By 

FRANK  A.  WAUGH 


ILLUSTRATED 

BY  MEMBERS  OF  THE  POSTAL  PHOTOGRAPHIC  CLUB 


NEW  YORK 

ORANGE  JUDD  COMPANY 
1910 


110 

UO 


1910 

Copyright,  by 

ORANGE  JUDD  COMPANY 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


<h 


0 

1 

(3 

0 

j 


To  the  Postal  Photographic  Club 

illustrations  in  the  book  will  seem 
like  old  friends  to  you,  I know.  The  orig- 
inals are  yours.  They  have  all  gone  the 
rounds  in  our  albums,  and  you  have  criticised 
and  praised  them  with  that  candor  and 
generosity  so  characteristic  of  our  fraternity. 
Several  of  them  have  been  prize  winners  by 
judgment  of  your  suffrages.  In  the  issue  of 
the  book  I am  deeply  grateful  to  you  all, 
and  especially  to  those  particular  members 
who  graciously  loaned  their  best  pictures  for 
the  improvement  of  my  essays. 

In  a large  way  you  have  all  helped  in 
the  making  of  this  book,  for  the  principles, 
opinions  and  observations  here  set  down 
have  nearly  all  borne  the  heat  of  discussion 
with  you  in  the  club  note-books.  These 
friendly  discussions  in  which  I have  par- 
ticipated for  more  than  a decade,  have  been 
like  a liberal  education  to  me.  The  Postal 
Photographic  Club  has  been  my  school  of 
art, — my  photographic  alma  mater,  if  I 
might  call  myself  a reputable  graduate, — 
and  you  have  been  at  once  my  teachers  and 


17< 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


my  classmates.  I think  I may  justly  love 
you  a little,  and,  wishing  to  earn  your  indul- 
gent remembrance,  may  proffer  you  this 
memento  of  my  labors. 

These  essays,  if  you  try  to  read  them, 
may  seem  less  familiar  than  the  pictures, 
but  even  the  farthest-fetched  of  them  will  not 
be  wholly  strange,  I hope,  seeing  how  often 
we  have  gone  over  such  matters  together. 
Every  theme  bends  to  the  attempt  to  see 
the  beauty  that  is  in  the  world,  and  to  make 
that  beauty  visible,  worth  while,  and  regnant 
in  the  lives  of  men  and  women.  For  we  all 
need  to  know  and  follow  beauty  as  we  need 
to  know  and  follow  truth  and  duty. 

F.  A.  WAUGH. 


Amherst,  Massachusetts, 
January,  1910. 


Program  of  Essays 

PAGE 

i.  On  the  Relation  of  Landscape  to  Life  n 


2.  On  the  Ministry  of  Trees  ...  25 

3.  On  Some  Other  Elements  of  Land- 

scape   39 

4.  On  Looking  at  the  Sky  ...  53 

5.  On  the  Weather 67 

6.  On  the  Art  Which  Mends  Nature  . 81 

7.  Concerning  the  American  Land- 

scape   95 


8.  On  American  Landscape  Gardening  hi 

9.  As  to  the  Field  of  Criticism  . . 135 

10.  On  American  Landscape  Gardeners  149 

11.  On  American  Masterpieces  of  Land- 

scape Architecture 177 

12.  On  the  Improvement  of  the  Open 

Country 203 

13.  On  the  Ownership  of  Scenery  . . 223 


vii 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


PAGE 

14.  On  the  Decorative  Use  of  Landscape  237 

15.  As  to  Landscape  in  Literature  . .249 

16.  On  the  Beauty  of  Landscape  Psy- 

chologically Considered  . . .265 

17.  Suggesting  Some  Practical  Applica- 

tions   297 

Summary  . ...  . ...  ...  . .321 

Index 

• • !•;  LM  1*3  !•  i*  • 327 


viii 


List  of  Illustrations 


FACING 

PAGE 

The  Potato  Patch Frontispiece 

Digging  Quahaugs  .........  16 

A Halt  for  Lunch  ..........  17 

Helping  Grandpa 24 

At  the  Well 25 

Edge  of  the  Woods 32 

Pine  Trees 33 

The  Open  Sea 48 

River  Scene 49 

Looking  up  the  Valley 56 

Afternoon  Clouds 57 

Winter  Woods  72 

Sunlight  and  Breeze 73 

Royal  Palm  Avenue 88 

Souvenir  of  Petit  Trianon,  Versailles  . . . 89 

The  Desert 104 

The  Path  Along  the  Hillside  ........  105 

In  the  Park 120 

Rhododendrons  . . . . ...  . . . 12 1 

Returning  to  the  Fold  . . . .......  136 

Veterans 137 

Along  the  Stream  . . . . ...  . . . 152 

Bend  of  the  River 153 

Flood-tide  at  Duck  Island  .......  160 


IX 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


FACING 

PAGE 

The  Frog  Pond 161 

The  Hillside 176 

The  Four-arch  Bridge 177 

Farm  Road  in  Winter 184 

Earth’s  Awakening 185 

Where  the  Waters  Meet 208 

Summer  Landscape 209 

In  Gloucester  Harbor 224 

Aurora  Lake 225 

The  River  Path 232 

Sand  and  Sea 233 

Pine  Trees,  Cape  Cod 240 

A Path  in  the  Snow 241 

The  Hand  to  the  Plow 256 

Haying  Time 257 

Old  Friends 264 

The  Path  to  the  Woods 265 

Brown  October 272 

The  Meadow  Brook 273 

“Women  Must  Wait” 280 

The  Charles  River 281 

The  Fragrant  Fruit  Trees,  Blossom  Full  . . 304 

The  Ford 305 

Woodland  Mist 312 

The  Harvest  Field 313 


ESSAY  NUMBER  ONE 


On  the  Relation  of  Land- 
scape to  Life 


The  difference  between  landscape  and  land- 
scape is  small,  but  there  is  a great  difference  in  be- 
holders. 

There  is  nothing  so  wonderful  in  an y landscape 
as  the  necessity  of  being  beautiful,  under  which 
evety  landscape  lies. 

Emerson, 

“Nature” 

Smile  O voluptuous  cool-breath' d earth! 
Earth  of  the  slumbering  and  liquid  trees! 

Earth  of  departed  sunset — earth  of  the 
mountains  misty-topt! 

Earth  of  the  vitreous  power  of  the  full 
moon  just  tinged  with  blue! 

Earth  of  shine  and  dark  mottling  the  tide 
of  the  river! 

Earth  of  the  limpid  gra})  of  clouds 

brighter  and  clearer  for  my  sake! 

Far  swooping  elbow'd  earth — rich 
apple-blossomed  earth! 

Smile  for  your  lover  comes — 

Prodigal,  you  have  given  me  love — therefore 
I to  you  give  love! 

O unspeakable,  passionate  love! 

Walt  Whitman, 

“Song  of  Myself” 


13 


^he  Landscape  Beautiful 


ON  THE  RELATION  OF  LANDSCAPE 
TO  LIFE 


^^HAT  charming  essayist  who  wrote  a 
lecture  on  the  relation  of  literature  to 
life  did  not  hesitate  to  claim  every- 
thing for  literature.  He  made  it  his  thesis 
that  literature  is  really  the  whole  stream 
of  life  so  far  as  the  thoughts  and  passions 
of  mankind  have  any  continuity  through 
the  generations.  It  would  be  too  much  to 
say  of  landscape  that  it  is  the  whole  of  life, 
but  this  is  true  at  least,  that  life,  as  we 
know  it,  could  not  exist  apart  from  the 
landscape. 

Human  life  has  a few  fundamentally 
necessary  conditions,  such  as  food,  speech,  a 
social  organization,  a certain  conception  of 
the  Infinite  Power,  and  a ready  contact  with 
the  material  world.  I have  not  put  litera- 
ture in  this  category.  This  may  look  like 
taking  the  negative  against  Charles  Dudley 


15 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Warner’s  proposition;  but,  in  the  first  place, 
the  foregoing  list  is  not  intended  to  be  a 
complete  one;  and,  in  the  second  place,  I 
am  not  convinced  that  literature  is  really 
one  of  the  conditions  of  life.  It  seems  to 
me  to  be  rather  one  of  its  products. 

Landscape  is  one  of  the  fundamental 
conditions.  The  contact  with  the  physical 
world  is  threefold— carnal,  intellectual  and 
spiritual.  Out  of  the  earth  we  first  get  sub- 
sistence for  the  body;  second,  our  ideas  of 
things  and  phenomena;  and  third,  our  ex- 
perience of  beauty  and  our  clue  to  the  para- 
dise not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens.  In  the  first  order  of  earth  contact 
we  may  or  may  not  know  the  landscape. 
The  miner,  toiling  in  the  coal  shaft,  may 
never  realize  to  himself  the  existence  of  the 
sky,  the  water  and  the  green  rolling  hills. 
But  the  farmer  plows  and  sows  and  harvests 
the  landscape,  and  thus  in  his  carnal  strug- 
gle for  food  comes  into  conscious  and  be- 
nign relationship  with  the  fields.  In  the 
second  order  of  contact  with  the  physical 
world,  the  landscape  is  woven  into  the  very 
fiber  of  all  our  mental  processes.  Our 
knowledge  of  space  and  number,  and  all  the 
most  elementary  ideas  psychology  has  ever 


16 


DIGGING  QUAHAUGS 


A HALT  FOR  LUNCH 


ON  LANDSCAPE  AND  LIFE 


named,  are  suggested,  illustrated  and 
demonstrated  to  us  by  what  we  see  in  the 
external  world  out-of-doors.  But  most  of 
all  the  landscape  becomes  a necessary  con- 
dition of  our  human  life  when  we  come 
into  contact  with  it  through  our  aesthetic 
and  spiritual  faculties. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  landscape  be- 
comes indispensable.  Robinson  Crusoe  lived 
a very  human  sort  of  life  with  the  outdoor 
world  and  without  society.  Jeremiah  in 
the  pit  had  human  society,  but  no  land- 
scape. Who  would  not  prefer  to  be  Crusoe? 

What  notion  of  beauty  could  any  one 
have  who  had  never  seen  the  landscape? 

Of  her  first  introduction  to  society  Miranda 
was  able  to  exclaim,  “How  beauteous  man- 
kind is!”  But  if  all  her  life  she  had  been 
locked  into  a dungeon  or  a palace  what 
might  she  have  cried  on  her  first  sight  of 
the  beautiful  world? 

In  this  life  we  are  taught  chiefly  by 
three  great  agencies — by  other  men,  by 
the  printed  page,  and  by  the  landscape; 
that  is,  by  what  we  see  of  the  natural  world. 
Of  these  three  Adam  at  first  had  only  the 
landscape,  showing  this  to  be  the  most 
primitive  and  elementary  of  all.  And  it  is 


17 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


noteworthy  (with  all  high  respect  to 
Mother  Eve),  that  when  human  society, 
the  next  great  teacher,  entered  the  world, 
sorrow  came  also.  So  that  from  the  first 
day  till  now  the  one  has  taught  us  of  pain 
and  sin  (and  forgiveness,  to  be  sure!),  while 
the  other  has  taught  of  peace  and  beauty 
and  hope. 

It  is  most  simply  and  emphatically  true 
that  the  landscape  is  our  chief  teacher  in 
the  world  of  beauty.  The  lake,  the  river, 
the  hills,  the  sky,  the  sunset,  these  (with 
the  human  form)  are  the  great  themes  of 
all  art.  Painting,  poetry  and  music  en- 
deavor to  interpret  to  us  what  here  we 
may  see  face  to  face.  And  what  part  of 
most  men’s  lives  is  painting  or  music, 
or  even  poetry  and  architecture,  beside  the 
landscape?  Once  or  twice  in  a lifetime  we 
visit  the  great  art  gallery,  or  we  hear  the 
best  music;  but  every  day  we  have  the  ever- 
lasting hills.  Occasionally  a line  of  poetry 
stirs  our  whole  soul;  but  every  breath  of 
wind  in  the  pine-trees  can  tell  the  same 
story. 

The  landscape  is  omnipresent.  All 
these  other  things  are  accidental  and 
escapable.  It  is  like  the  air  that  we  breathe 


18 


ON  LANDSCAPE  AND  LIFE 


sleeping  or  waking  compared  with  the 
champagne  that  we  taste  once  a year  at  the 
annual  re  anion.  The  champagne  costs 
more:  we  are  apt  to  notice  its  effects  more. 
Very  likely  it  gives  us  a headache. 

One  can  take  a long  ocean  trip  and  rid 
himself  of  the  newspapers.  One  can  go  to 
Bolivia  or  Hudson’s  Bay  and  get  away 
from  society.  But  even  in  New  York  or 
Paris  it  is  hard  to  evade  the  landscape. 
Some  persons  there  are  in  the  slums  of  the 
great  cities  who  come  near  doing  it;  but 
they  are  comparatively  few,  and  their 
wretched  condition  shows  too  well  what 
the  penalty  is.  And,  simply  enough,  those 
philanthropists  who  are  seeking  to  help 
such  wretched  ones — submerged  in  society 
— use  as  a chief  means  the  introduction  of 
more  landscape  into  their  lives. 

For  landscape  is  one  of  the  greatest 
curative  agencies.  Hospitals  are  built  in 
the  country  whenever  that  is  possible.  The 
fresh-air  fund  is  established  to  provide  sick 
and  dying  ones  with  some  touch  of  the 
healing  landscape.  The  fashionable  physi- 
cians prescribe  country  air  and  change  of 
scenery  for  their  wealthy  patients. 

The  landscape  has  almost  unthinkable 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


sanitative  power.  When  a ma  r’s  brains  or 
nerves  have  become  so  clogged  or  worn  by 
city  excitements  that  they  can  no  longer 
perform  their  functions,  he  goes  back  to  the 
fields  and  woods  to  be  renovated.  A wise 
man  takes  regular  baths  to  keep  his  body 
clean.  The  mind,  which  is  more  sensitive 
to  all  disturbances  than  the  body,  needs 
equally  regular  ablutions.  Parks  are  put 
into  cities  for  this  very  sort  of  sanitative 
service  which  they  are  able  to  render. 

The  power  of  environment  upon  every 
living  species  has  come  to  be  accepted  as 
a fundamental  law  of  life.  There  are  those, 
indeed,  who  read  into  this  principle  the 
whole  law,  and  who  assert  that  it  accounts 
for  everything.  Environment  certainly 
does  exercise  an  almost  unlimited  influence, 
no  less  upon  human  life  than  upon  the  con- 
stitution of  a mollusk  or  the  form  of  an 
orchid.  And  in  this  all  but  all-powerful 
environment  what  part  does  the  landscape 
play  for  us?  Is  it  not,  in  fact,  the  principal 
part?  For  we  are  environed  night  and  day, 
from  birth  till  death,  by  the  landscape. 

Its  power  may  be  judged  further  from 
its  effects.  Compare  the  people  of  Switzer- 
land with  those  of  Holland.  What  makes 


20 


ON  LANDSCAPE  AND  LIFE 


the  differences  between  them?  Is  it  edu- 
cation? Education  has  grown  out  of  his- 
tory and  literature.  What  have  been  back 
of  these?  Away  down  at  the  root  the 
primary  and  irresolvable  difference  is  chiefly 
one  of  landscape  and  of  climate; — and 
climate  is  one-half  landscape  and  the  other 
half  the  result  of  landscape. 

We  can  institute  a similar  comparison 
on  our  own  soil.  Hardly  could  men  be 
more  unlike  than  the  cowboys  of  New 
Mexico  and  the  careful  close-fisted  sons  of 
New  England.  Yet  the  cowboys  and  the 
New  Englanders  are  own  brothers.  Some 
of  them  slept  together  in  the  same  trundle- 
beds,  and  went  to  the  same  schools. 

We  can  see  the  effects  of  landscape  in 
our  own  friends.  Mary  Winthrop  has  never 
been  the  same  since  she  went  to  live  in 
Colorado.  The  large  mountains  have 
taught  her  to  regard  the  great  qualities  in 
life;  but  they  have  made  her  neglectful  of 
her  manicure  set.  Paul  and  Harvey  Hud- 
son were  as  much  alike  as  two  brothers 
usually  are  when  they  used  to  go  to  school 
in  Schoharie  County,  New  York;  but  they 
are  decidedly  different  now.  Paul  has  lived 
twenty  years  in  Concord,  New  Hampshire, 


21 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


where  he  has  his  garden  and  all  his  polite 
and  well-ordered  pleasures.  Harvey  has 
been  twenty-two  years  in  Iowa  in  the  real 
estate  business.  There  is  no  need  to  make 
an  inventory  of  their  present  differences. 
Any  one  can  do  that  without  ever  seeing 
the  two  men.  Harvey’s  character  is  like 
the  broad  open  plains;  Paul’s  is  like  the 
rich  and  beautiful,  but  immovable  granite 
hills. 

In  our  own  characters,  if  we  will  look 
into  them,  we  may  trace  yet  more  plainly 
the  effects  of  landscape.  I know  very 
well  what  those  twenty-five  years  on  the 
Kansas  plains  have  meant  to  me,  and  also 
the  years  in  the  mountains. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  recall  how 
often  the  landscape  has  been  the  inspiration 
for  the  best  artists, — especially  poets  and 
painters.  This  ought  to  be  noticed,  too, 
that  the  best  poetry  began  with  love  of 
nature  and  after  men  left  off  flirting  with 
impossible  goddesses;  and  also  that  paint- 
ing was  stiff  and  formal  till  the  landscape 
began  to  dominate  it.  So  that  in  all  strict- 
ness one  may  say  that  in  art  the  dis- 
covery of  landscape  has  made  humanity 
more  human  and  divinity  more  divine.  It 


22 


ON  LANDSCAPE  AND  LIFE 


gives  the  former  its  proper  environment, 
and  the  latter  its  material  expression. 

In  large  part  the  effect  of  landscape  on 
human  lives  is  unnoticed  and  unknown 
even  to  the  personality  affected.  The 
greatest  and  deepest  and  most  ineffaceable 
results  are  probably  of  this  sort.  Yet  it  is 
no  rare  thing  to  find  an  attachment  to 
landscape,  both  conscious  and  powerful, 
thus  acknowledging  its  influence.  My 
friend  Mr.  Kinney  has  a fruit-storage  house 
on  the  top  of  which  he  has  built  a cupola 
for  the  special  purpose  of  viewing  the 
country  round.  It  is  hardly  possible  for  a 
visitor  to  leave  the  farm  without  first  fol- 
lowing Mr.  Kinney  up  the  steep  and  narrow 
stairs  to  have  a look  at  the  lake  and  the 
mountains.  There  is  nothing  about  the 
homestead,  not  even  the  magnificent  apple 
orchard,  that  the  owner  is  prouder  of  or 
enjoys  more. 

The  doctors  have  discovered  a new 
name  for  an  old  disease — the  name  is 
nostalgia,  which,  translated  into  English, 
means,  “We  want  to  see  our  home  again.” 
There  were  dark  and  terrible  days  of 
homesickness  for  the  men  and  women  who 
went  from  New  England  to  settle  the  great 


23 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


plains.  Many  a woman  of  gentle  nurture 
really  died  in  the  trial.  And  the  great 
longing  was  not  to  see  the  old  schoolmates, 
nor  even, — in  most  cases, — to  see  parents 
or  brothers  and  sisters,  but  to  look  once 
more  on  the  peaceful  green  hills,  on  the 
dark  pine  forests  and  the  quiet  clustering 
houses  of  the  village  in  the  valley. 


24 


HELPING  GRANDPA 


AT  THE  WELL 


ESSAY  NUMBER  TWO 

On  the  Ministry  of  Trees 


The  pleasing  tranquillity  of  groves  hath  ever 
been  in  high  repute  among  the  innocent  and  refined 
part  of  mankind.  Indeed,  no  species  of  land- 
scape is  so  fitted  for  meditation.  The  forest  at- 
tracts the  attention  by  its  grandeur;  and  the  park 
scenery  by  its  beauty;  . . . but  the  uniform 

sameness  of  the  grove  leaves  the  eye  disengaged ; 
and  the  feet  rvandering  at  pleasure  where  they  are 
confined  by  no  path,  want  little  direction.  The 
mind,  therefore,  undisturbed,  has  only  to  retire 
within  itself.  Hence  the  philosopher,  the  devotee, 
the  poet,  all  retreated  to  these  quiet  recesses;  and 
. . . from  the  world  retired,  conversed  with 

angels  and  immortal  forms. 

In  classic  times  the  grove  was  the  haunt  of 

gods: 

. . . Habitarunt  dii  quoque  sylvas. 

And  in  the  days  of  Nature,  before  art  had  in- 
troduced a kind  of  combination  against  her,  man 
had  no  idea  of  worshipping  Cod  in  a temple 
made  with  hands. 


Gilpin, 

“Forest  Scenery” 


27 


The  groves  mere  God's  first  temples.  Ere  man 

learned 

To  hem  the  shaft,  and  lap  the  architrave. 

And  spread  the  roof  above  them — ere  he  framed 
The  loftp  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 
The  sound  of  anthems;  in  the  darkling  mood. 

Amid  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  domn. 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest  solemn  thanks 
And  supplication. 

William  Cullen  Bryant, 

“A  Forest  Hymn” 


Pour  vous,  mon  ami,  pour  tout  le  monde,  ce 
grand  tilleul  est  une  tente  magnifique,  d'un  vert 
transparent;  vous  p vopez  sautiller  des  oiseaux,  volt- 
iger  quelques  faunes  ou  quelques  splvains,  papillons 
qui  aiment  I'ombre  el  le  silence;  vous  respirez 
la  douce  odeur  de  ses  fleurs.  Mais  pour  moi,  il  me 
semble  que  le  vent  qui  agite  ces  feuilles  me  redise 
toutes  ces  choses  que  j'ai  dites  et  entendues  au 
pied  d'un  autre  tilleul,  a une  epoque  deja  bien 
eloignee;  I’ombre  des  feuilles  de  I'arbre  et  les  rap- 
ons  de  soleil  qu’elles  tamisent  foment  pour  moi 
des  images  que  je  ne  revois  que  la;  cette  odeur 
m’enivre,  et  trouble  ma  raison,  et  me  plonge  dans 
des  extases  et  dans  des  reves. 


Alphonse  Karr, 
“Voyage  autour  de  mon  Jardin” 


29 


ON  THE  MINISTRY  OF  TREES 


ARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER  said 
that  until  he  saw  the  Annapolis  at 
low  tide,  he  never  realized  how  much 
it  added  to  the  looks  of  a river  to  have 
water  in  it.  One  might  say  the  same  thing 
of  trees  in  the  landscape.  There  are,  indeed, 
some  landscapes  without  trees;  but  they 
are  exceptional,  desolate,  or  vain. 

It  will  not  do  to  go  too  far  with  this 
rule.  I love  the  prairies.  There  is  inspira- 
tion in  the  view  where  one  can  see  for 
twenty  miles  in  every  direction  without  tree 
or  shrub  to  arrest  the  eye.  I remember 
when  the  buffaloes  were  there,  and  an  occa- 
sional coyote,  and  the  white-topped  prairie 
schooners  crawling  along  the  trail.  A tree 
would  be  a false  note  in  that  picture.  Two 
trees  would  ruin  it. 

Nevertheless,  let  God  be  praised  for 
trees.  Even  the  plains  would  lose  some  of 
their  charm  if  one  could  not  compare  them 
with  the  mountains  and  the  forests. 
Western  Kansas  is  beautiful  partly  by  con- 


31 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


trast  with  Colorado  and  Vermont.  It 
would  be  terrible  to  be  without  trees  alto- 
gether. If  there  should  ever  be  a dull, 
monotonous  world,  where  all  landscapes 
must  be  alike,  let  it  be  a world  full  of  trees. 

A recent  magazine  story  tells  of  a 
seven-year-old  Arizona  girl  who  stood 
dancing  under  a scrubby  little  cottonwood 
tree  and  clapping  her  hands  to  the  rustling 
leaves.  The  stranger  said  to  her  mother, 
“Your  little  girl  seems  to  be  much  de- 
lighted by  the  tree.” 

“Ah,  yes,  she  may  well  be  so,”  said  the 
mother.  “It  is  the  first  tree  she  ever  saw.” 

One  might  live  without  art  galleries, 
without  theaters,  possibly  without  libraries; 
but  to  live  to  be  even  seven  years  old  with- 
out trees  seems  like  the  culmination  of  all 
hardships. 

Trees  are  peculiarly  adapted  to  the 
landscape.  They  are  suited  to  it  like  sails 
to  a boat.  They  are  the  most  indispensable 
of  materials  for  landscape-making.  Even 
the  landscape  architects,  in  their  puny,  little 
works,  use  thousands  of  them.  Amongst 
these  craftsmen,  trees  are  bought  and  sold 
by  millions,  and  they  all  go  to  landscape- 
making. 


32 


EDGE  OF  THE  WOODS 

W m.  T.  Knox 


PINE  TREES 


H.  F.  Perkins 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  TREES 


The  characteristic  note  is  given  to 
many  of  the  greatest  natural  landscapes  by 
trees,  usually  by  some  particular  species. 
The  pine  forests  of  northern  Wisconsin, 
the  larches  of  eastern  Quebec,  the  palm 
groves  of  Florida  all  play  this  role.  In 
eastern  Oklahoma,  and  through  the  Ozark 
Mountains,  the  whiteoaks  and  jackoaks, 
scattered  sparsely  over  the  hillside,  clothe 
the  landscape  with  a weird  and  unforgeta- 
ble  character.  What  would  the  White 
Mountains  be  without  pines  or  spruce? 

Just  what  Niagara  Falls  would  be  without 
water. 

It  is  interesting  to  take  a glance  at  the 
literature  of  trees.  On  my  shelves  are 
perhaps  fifty  books  devoted  to  them. 

About  one-third  are  scientific  or  technical 
works,  dealing  with  botany,  arboriculture, 
or  forestry.  The  remainder  were  intended 
to  be  poetical.  A few  of  this  number  really 
have  poetry  in  them;  but  the  significant 
thing  is  that  so  much  of  the  literature  of 
trees  should  be  given  to  their  aesthetic  and 
spiritual  appreciation,  rather  than  to  the 
mere  technical  knowledge  of  them. 

It  may  be  well  to  remember  in  this 
connection,  what  Professor  Bailey  has 


33 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


pointed  out,  that  there  are  two  quite  dif- 
ferent interpretations  of  Nature,  namely, 
the  scientific  and  the  poetical.  The  two 
should  not  be  confused.  A book  on  science 
should  not  be  mixed  with  poetry;  and  a 
book  of  sentiment  should  not  pretend  to  be 
scientific.  But  both  interpretations  are 
legitimate. 

The  beauty  of  the  trees  has  appealed  to 
artists  of  all  kinds,  though  more  especially 
to  landscape  gardeners,  painters,  and  poets. 
We  can  quickly  see  how  inevitable  this  is  in 
the  case  of  the  landscape  gardener.  He 
works  with  trees.  They  are  the  best  of  all 
his  picture-making  materials.  The  painters 
have  painted  trees  ever  since  they  have 
painted  landscape  at  all,  but  especially 
since  the  days  of  Corot.  The  poets  have 
written  of  trees  from  the  day  they  discov- 
ered the  natural  world, — that  is,  we  may 
say,  from  Chaucer  down,  but  particularly 
from  the  time  of  Wordsworth.  One  of 
them  said, 

I remember,  I remember,  the  fir-trees  dark  and 
high; 

I used  to  think  their  slender  tops  would  almost 
reach  the  sky. 

And  another,  when  the  yearning  for 


34 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  TREES 


the  old  home  was  strongest  in  him,  remem- 
bered first  the  trees.  He  said, 

Kennst  du  das  Land  wo  die  Citronen  bliihen? 

Though  the  nature  lovers’  cult  had  no 
place  amongst  the  old  Hebrews,  their  poets 
and  prophets  could  find  no  better  images 
than  the  trees  with  which  to  dress  their 
most  vivid  revelations  of  things  eternal  and 
divine.  The  sinless  Paradise  was  a garden 
full  of  trees;  and  in  its  center  the  knowl- 
edge of  good  and  evil  grew  upon  the  tree 
of  life.  The  psalmist  said  that  the 
righteous  shall  flourish  “like  the  palm-tree.” 
The  cedars  on  Mount  Lebanon  will  be  re- 
membered by  thousands  of  generations  yet 
to  come. 

A single  tree  is  beautiful  in  itself.  Next 
to  the  human  form  the  most  beautiful  unit  in 
nature  is  a tree.  The  symmetry  of  the  per- 
fect elm  or  pine  or  palm  satisfies  the  eye  like 
the  symmetry  of  a Greek  temple.  There  is 
something  more  in  the  tree,  though,  than 
in  any  piece  of  statuary  or  architecture. 
There  is  life.  And  the  symmetry  of  life 
is  always  more  beautiful  than  that  of  any 
dead  or  inert  thing. 

A tree  is  beautiful,  too,  for  texture  and 


35 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


color,  as  well  as  for  form.  It  is  beautiful 
in  expression,  in  the  associations  that  clus- 
ter around  it,  or  which  are  gratuitously 
given  to  it.  There  is  one  elm  in  Cambridge 
which  we  cannot  see  without  vividly  imag- 
ining how  the  great  Washington  looked 
as  he  stood  beneath  its  early  shade.  When 
I find  a very  old  tree  in  the  forest,  my  mind 
blossoms  full  of  pictures  such  as  this  tree 
might  have  seen, — of  wigwams  and  camp 
fires,  and  a whole  race  of  men  and  women 
now  gone  forever. 

Even  the  imperfect  tree  is  beautiful ; or, 
as  Gilpin  or  Downing  would  have  said,  it 
is  picturesque.  For  this  is  the  figure  which 
these  men  used  to  illustrate  the  difference 
between  the  beautiful  and  the  picturesque. 
A tree  which  reaches  full,  perfect,  and 
normal  development  is  beautiful;  one  which 
bears  upon  it  the  scars  of  severe  struggle, 
broken  by  storms  and  living  against  partial 
defeat,  is  picturesque.  A certain  school  of 
landscape  gardeners  used  to  plant  dead  and 
blasted  trees  in  private  parks  just  to  give 
this  note  of  picturesqueness. 

A tree  seems  more  human  than  most 
objects  in  the  world.  We  more  readily 
ascribe  human  qualities  to  it.  The  oak-tree 


36 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  TREES 


stands  for  strength,  and  the  delicate  white 
birch  for  feminine  fragility.  The  quaking 
aspen  reminds  us  of  the  instability  of  cer- 
tain men  and  women,  and  the  somber  pine 
of  the  cold  serenity  of  others. 

The  poet  or  painter  may  go  further, — 
nay,  is  even  certain  to  go  further, — and  is 
sure  to  find  in  trees  something  quite  beyond 
the  suggestion  of  human  character, — some 
symbolism  of  the  divine  mysteries.  Ruskin, 
who  speaks  often  of  trees,  nearly  always  rises 
to  this  plane,  as  when  he  says  in  the  Ele- 
ments of  Drawing,  “As  you  draw  trees 
more  and  more  in  their  various  states  of 
health  and  hardship,  you  will  be  every  day 
struck  by  the  beauty  of  the  types  they 
present  of  the  truths  most  essential  for 
mankind  to  know,  and  you  will  see  that 
this  vegetation  of  the  earth,  which  is  neces- 
sary to  our  life,  first,  as  purifying  the  air 
for  us  and  then  as  food,  and  just  as  neces- 
sary to  our  joy  in  all  places  of  the  earth, — 
what  these  trees  and  leaves,  I say,  are 
meant  to  teach  us  as  we  contemplate  them, 
and  read  or  hear  their  lovely  language, 
written  or  spoken  for  us,  not  in  frightful, 
black  letters,  nor  in  dull  sentences,  but  in 
fair,  green,  and  shadowy  shapes  of  waving 


37 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


woods,  and  blossomed  brightness  of  odor- 
iferous wit,  and  sweet  whispers  of  unintru- 
sive  wisdom,  and  playful  morality.” 

We  infer  the  character  of  God  chiefly 
from  our  experience  of  human  nature;  but 
of  all  those  things  in  external  nature  which 
speak  to  us  of  divine  love  and  care,  the 
trees  seem  to  be  the  preeminent  ministers, 
— the  symbols  and  the  substance  of  wor- 
ship. The  Druids  used  to  worship  the  oak- 
trees,  it  is  said.  They  must  have  been  a 
kindly,  amiable  folk.  The  Hebrew  preach- 
ers used  to  object  to  their  people  going  to 
the  groves  for  worship,  but  their  objection 
seems  to  have  been  factitious  and  purely 
technical.  “The  groves  were  God’s  first 
temples,”  and  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  there 
could  ever  be  any  idolatry  there. 


38 


ESSAY  NUMBER  THREE 


On  Some  Other  Elements  of 

Landscape 


Look!  tinder  that  broad  beech-tree  / sat  down 
when  I was  last  this  way  a-fishing;  and  the  birds  in 
the  adjoining  grove  seemed  to  have  a friendly 
contention  with  an  echo,  whose  dead  voice  seemed 
to  live  in  a hollow  tree  near  to  the  brow  of  that 
primrose  hill.  There  I sat  viewing  the  silver  streams 
glide  silently  toward  their  center,  the  tempestuous 
sea ; yet  sometimes  opposed  by  rugged  roots 
and  pebble-stones,  which  broke  their  waves,  and 
turned  them  into  foam;  and  sometimes  I beguiled 
the  time  by  viewing  the  harmless  lambs ; some 
leaping  securely  in  the  cool  shade,  whilst  others 
sported  themselves  in  the  cheerful  sun;  and  saw 
others  craving  comfort  from  the  swollen  udders  of 
their  bleating  dams.  As  I thus  sat,  these  and 
other  sights  had  so  fully  possest  my  soul  with  con- 
tent, that  1 thought,  as  the  poet  has  happily 
exprest  it, 

I was  for  that  time  lifted  above  earth; 

And  possest  of  joys  not  promis'd  in  my  birth. 

Izaak  Walton 

Behold ! the  Sea, 

The  opaline,  the  plentiful  and  strong. 

Yet  beautiful  as  is  the  rose  in  June, 

Fresh  as  the  trickling  rainbow  of  July; 

Sea  full  of  food,  the  nourisher  of  kinds, 

Purger  of  earth,  and  medicine  of  men; 

Creating  a sweet  climate  by  my  breath. 

Washing  out  harms  and  griefs  from  memory. 
And,  in  my  mathematic  ebb  and  flow. 

Giving  a hint  of  that  which  changes  not. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  “Seashore” 


41 


ON  SOME  OTHER  ELEMENTS  OF 
LANDSCAPE 


‘7T' HOSE  who  think  of  the  landscape  as 
being  diffuse  and  lacking  composi- 
tion frequently  reach  their  inadequate 
conclusions  from  giving  too  much  heed  to 
details.  To  the  child  the  finest  painting 
may  contain  nothing  but  a house,  a water- 
fall and  a mountain,  while  the  composition 
— the  relation  of  part  to  part — the  chief 
reason  of  being  for  the  picture — is  entirely 
lost  in  his  curious  interest  in  details.  In 
the  larger  musical  pieces,  like  the  oratorios, 
it  is  extremely  hard  for  the  unprofessional 
listener  to  find  anything  more  than  a suc- 
cession of  disconnected  airs  and  recitations. 
Some  passages  may  be  pleasing,  some 
rather  flat,  many  quite  unintelligible;  but 
the  oratorio  as  a whole  does  not  stand  forth 
with  any  form  and  individuality.  So  the 
details  of  landscape  have  their  own  values; 
certain  items  please  us;  a few  offend. 

There  are,  of  course,  very  few  details 
of  landscape  which  are  offensive, — in  nat- 


43 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


ural  scenery  probably  none.  I have  seen 
the  alkali  plains  and  the  bad  lands;  but 
these  latter  are  full  of  interest,  while  the 
former  are  truly  beautiful.  Every  river  is 
beautiful,  big  or  little.  As  Mr.  Ward  said 
of  girls:  “I  like  big  girls: — and  little  ones.” 
Every  mountain  is  worth  knowing  and 
every  little  hill.  Every  valley  in  the  world 
is  a panorama  of  beauty;  every  plain  is  a 
picture;  even  the  desert  is  an  inspiring  sight 
in  spite  of  the  physical  discomforts  which 
it  may  yield. 

In  another  essay  we  have  talked  of 
trees.  They  are  the  most  conspicuous  liv- 
ing elements  in  the  landscape  and  most 
closely  touch  our  humanity.  But  the 
throbbing  ocean,  the  quiet  lake,  the  gossip- 
ing brook  also  appeal  to  our  human  moods. 
Each  has  been  personified  a thousand  times 
in  literature.  Each  one,  indeed,  has  spoken 
to  my  life  and  to  my  neighbor’s,  and  waste, 
indeed,  is  that  soul  where  no  response  has 
been  heard.  Who  could  stand  on  the  deck 
of  the  boat  in  mid-ocean,  with  a thousand 
miles  of  unmarked  water  on  every  side 
inviting  the  eye  to  invisible  horizons  be- 
yond, and  not  feel  the  infinite  stretch  of  his 
own  life?  Or  who,  standing  by  the  peace- 


44 


ELEMENTS  OF  LANDSCAPE 


ful  lake  at  sunset,  could  help  yearning  for 
an  equal  peace  in  his  own  heart  or  believ- 
ing that  his  soul  was  truly  capable  of  it? 

Or  who  can  listen  closely  to  the  cheerful 
songful  music  of  the  mountain  brook — the 
brook  which  “goes  on  forever” — without 
longing  for  the  hours  when  his  own  human 
life  might  run  a similarly  care-free  course? 
In  fact,  this  is  the  great  glory  of  the  phys- 
ical world,  that  it  is  interpretable  into  the 
noblest  passions  and  aspirations  of  the 
human  heart. 

Every  nature  lover  has  his  specialty. 
One  man’s  muse  rides  on  “The  Seven  Seas,” 
another  man  fishes  quietly  along  “Little 
Rivers”;  another  finds  his  pastime  hunting 
big  game  in  the  Rockies.  Stevenson’s  love 
for  the  tropical  ocean  was  almost  pathetic. 

The  mountains  have  always  drawn 
men.  Even  the  savages  resorted  to  them. 
Now  in  the  days  of  a superheated  civiliza- 
tion men  and  women  go  back  to  the  moun- 
tains with  a peculiar  confidence.  The 
mountains  of  Colorado  annually  call  to- 
gether thousands  of  tourists;  but  better 
than  the  tourists  are  the  thousands  of  old 
friends  recalled  as  to  a parental  home  by 
the  mountains  of  Manitou  or  Middle  Park. 


45 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


The  White  Mountains  are  visited  every 
summer  by  hordes  of  idle  pleasure-seekers, 
some  with  new  clothes  to  show,  and  some 
with  budding  daughters ; but  there  are  many 
many  more  who  return  to  the  White  Moun- 
tains in  summer  for  a real  recreation  of 
body  and  of  spirit,  for  the  renewal  of  senses 
worn  threadbare  and  the  uplift  of  souls 
depressed  with  the  sins  of  city  life.  Such 
people  find  a heart’s  refuge  in  the  hills,  as 
did  the  poet  who  remembered  them  in  a 
beautiful  figure,  saying 

As  the  mountains  are  roundabout  Jerusalem, 

So  the  Lord  is  roundabout  them  that  fear  Him. 

The  mountains  appeal  also  to  the  lust 
of  adventure.  Every  year  a toll  of  lives  is 
taken  by  Mt.  Blanc  and  the  Matterhorn. 
The  hardiest  American  explorers  are  now 
attacking  Mt.  McKinley.  The  noble  peaks 
of  the  Himalayas  are  yet  unspoken.  Even 
the  small  mountains  excite  some  appetite 
for  conquest  in  the  mildest  breasts.  Re- 
member how  Thoreau  set  out  for  Wachu- 
sett.  Here  in  our  own  neighborhood  is 
the  Appalachian  Club  (and  many  smaller 
mountain  clubs),  composed  of  lawyers, 
teachers  and  parsons  bound  together  as  by 


46 


ELEMENTS  OF  LANDSCAPE 


a pirates’  oath  to  scale  some  thousand-foot 
altitudes. 

The  sense  of  beauty  finds  nourishment 
everywhere  in  mountain  views.  I have  seen 
the  Presidential  Range  from  the  west  when 
the  afternoon  sun  was  thrown  back  from 
the  first  soft  snow  caps;  and  if  there  are 
any  lovelier  sights  in  Heaven  it  will  surely 
be  worth  a few  thousand  years  to  revel  in 
the  glory  of  them.  I have  seen  the  Jung- 
frau from  Rugen  Park  at  Interlaken  when 
the  bridal  veil  of  mist  lifted  for  a moment 
from  her  front  revealing  one  of  the  most 
sublime  pictures  of  the  mortal  world.  I 
have  looked  for  hours  in  quiet  joy  upon  the 
tiny  Holyoke  range;  I have  climbed  Mt. 
Orford  in  the  rain;  I have  loved  Mt.  Marcy 
from  afar;  I have  viewed  Pike’s  Peak  from 
many  angles;  I have  walked  the  dome  of 
Mt.  Helena  by  daylight  and  by  night;  and 
every  contact  with  every  one  has  been  a 
feast  of  beauty  to  me.  The  one  I knew 
best  of  all  was  Mt.  Mansfield. 

A strong  and  rugged  profile  juts  against  the  east- 
ern sky, 

Where  human  face  some  likeness  finds  in  mountain 
imag’ry, — 

A “nose”  and  “chin”  are  certified  to  each  Ver- 
monter’s eye. 


47 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


The  morning’s  purpling  shadows  spread  along  the 
mountain  base, 

While  nearer  mists  are  lifting  from  Winooski’s 
silvery  trace, 

And  spectrum  clouds  their  hues  reflect  upon  the 
upturned  face. 

Or  evening  lights,  with  gentle  touch  on  wood  and 
field  and  farm, 

Reveal  the  landscape  fair  and  dear  with  every 
homely  charm, 

Where  good  men  live  and  love  and  die  free  from 
the  world’s  alarm. 

O Mansfield,  firm  and  steadfast  friend!  Thy 
patience  still  be  mine! 

When  cares  afflict  I’d  pattern  thee,  my  life  to  God 
resign, 

With  equal  peace,  with  faith  as  firm,  my  face 
upturned  like  thine! 

In  passing  it  may  be  worth  remark  that 
the  beauty  of  the  mountain  is  more  elusive 
even  than  the  beauty  of  the  sea.  The  great 
painters  have  caught  the  spirit  and  even 
the  movement  of  the  ocean  with  some  suc- 
cess; but  Orizaba  and  Rainier  have  not  yet 
been  put  on  canvas. 

As  the  mountains,  so  the  rivers.  Their 
appeal  lies  to  the  appetite  for  adventure, 
to  the  sense  of  beauty  and  to  a deeper 
spiritual  sense  through  which  we  seem  to 
be  next  of  kin  to  the  physical  world.  As 


48 


THE  OPEN  SEA 


RIVER  SCENE 


ELEMENTS  OF  LANDSCAPE 


one  stands  on  the  levee  at  New  Orleans 
and  sees  the  flood  of  waters  coming  down 
from  the  lap  of  the  continent,  he  must  have 
a wooden  imagination,  indeed,  if  he  does  not 
wish  to  penetrate  the  country  in  a dozen 
states  more  than  a thousand  miles  away 
whence  these  waters  come.  The  early 
voyageurs  who  explored  the  valley  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  were  carried  forward  by  this 
irresistible  appetite  quite  as  much  as  by  any 
holy  desire  for  the  conversion  of  the 
Indians.  Why,  even  the  little  brook  drives 
me  half  insane  with  its  coquetry  as  it 
vanishes  round  the  next  turn.  I long  to 
follow  it;  and  if  by  good  fortune  it  should 
be  apple-blossom  time  and  I have  my  hat- 
band stuck  full  of  trout  flies,  then  I will 
indeed  stifle  every  other  call  and  follow  on 
from  pool  to  pool  as  long  as  I can  see  the 
flash  of  a leaping  trout. 

Every  river  and  every  brook  is  beauti- 
ful, and  each  in  its  own  individual  way. 
Some  critics  disparage  the  muddy  Missouri, 
but  they  show  a provincial  and  undeveloped 
taste  in  doing  so.  Some  travelers  say  the 
Rhine  is  a disappointment.  May  Heaven 
forgive  their  hardness  of  heart!  Some  peo- 
ple find  little  joy  in  the  Hudson;  but  then, 


49 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


indeed,  there  are  those  who  do  not  care  for 
Handel’s  Largo  nor  for  Hamlet. 

Let  Lucy  Larcom  speak  for  the  Merri- 
mack: 

Dear  river,  that  didst  wander  through 
My  childhood’s  path,  a vein  of  blue, 

Freshening  the  pulses  of  my  youth 
Toward  glimpsing  hope  and  opening  truth, 

A heart  thank-laden  hastens  back 
To  rest  by  thee,  bright  Merrimack! 

I once  knew  a brook, — a creek  the 
neighbors  called  it.  It  was  muddy,  its 
banks  were  somewhat  squalid,  and  the  trees 
along  its  borders  would  not  take  any  prizes 
at  an  international  competition;  but  there 
was  a practicable  swimming-hole,  and  I 
once  caught  three  catfish  just  above  the 
bend,  and  my  sweetheart  used  to  walk  with 
me  through  the  trees  there.  Oh,  poor  and 
homely  creek,  with  what  glorious  visions  of 
true  and  worthy  beauty  did  you  fill  my  ex- 
panding boyhood! 

There  could  not  be  an  unlovely  lake,  I 
suppose,  just  as  no  woman  could  ever  be 
unlovely  except  for  her  own  sins.  A lake 
can  not  be  sinful,  of  course.  Superior  has 
a beauty  wild  and  vast  like  that  of  the 
ocean ; Champlain  is  glorious  with  a queenly 


50 


ELEMENTS  OF  LANDSCAPE 


majesty;  Killarney  and  Lomond  are  famous 
in  song  and  story;  and  we  can  never  forget 
how  far-away  Galilee  used  to  yield  rest  and 
inspiration  to  the  homeless  Man  of  Sor- 
rows. The  marshes  of  Glynn  inspired 
Lanier  of  fragrant  memory,  and  Walden 
Pond  through  Thoreau  was  the  means  of 
enriching  our  literature  forever. 

The  plains  seem  dreary  to  some  eyes; 
but  I must  think  that  such  eyes  look  out  of 
darkened  souls  wherein  the  sense  of  beauty 
lies  dead  or  unawakened.  Twenty -five 
years  of  my  boyhood  were  spent  upon  the 
plains.  Even  in  those  days  of  immaturity 
they  seemed  beautiful  to  me;  and  I will 
always  remember  with  what  poignant  joy 
that  beauty  all  swept  back  over  my  soul, 
when,  after  some  years  of  wandering,  I 
suddenly  found  myself  once  more  in  the 
center  of  the  world,  with  the  flat  unbroken 
land  stretching  out  everywhere  to  kiss  the 
shimmering  horizon.  When  the  plains  used 
to  be  lighted  up  at  night  with  miles  on 
miles  of  prairie  fires,  that  was  almost  the 
sublimest  sight  of  a lifetime.  I never  saw 
the  Sahara,  but  I should  like  to.  That,  too, 
must  be  magnificent,  in  sun  or  in  storm. 

And  so  whether  it  be  the  great  moun- 


51 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


tain  peak  or  the  little  hill,  the  mighty  river 
or  the  trickling  brook,  the  boundless  ocean 
or  the  reedy  pond,  every  jot  and  item  of  the 
landscape  has  its  message  of  beauty,  of 
adventure  and  of  the  heart’s  uplift.  In  a 
large  sense,  yet  in  a near  and  real  truth, 
they  seem  to  be  the  voice  of  God  speaking 
to  mankind.  And  as  I believe  in  humanity, 
I must  think  that  the  message  finds  a true 
response  in  the  souls  of  most  men. 


52 


ESSAY  NUMBER  FOUR 

On  Looking  at  the  Sky 


It  is  strange  how  little  in  general  people  know 
about  the  sky.  It  is  the  part  of  creation  in  which 
Nature  has  done  more  for  the  sake  of  pleasing 
man,  more  for  the  sole  and  evident  purpose  of 
talking  to  him  and  teaching  him,  than  in  any  other 
of  her  works,  and  it  is  just  the  part  in  which  we 
least  attend  to  her.  . . . There  is  not  a 

moment  of  any  day  of  our  lives  when  Nature  is 
not  producing  scene  after  scene,  picture  after  pic- 
ture, glory  after  glory,  and  working  still  upon 
such  exquisite  and  constant  principles  of  the  most 
perfect  beauty,  that  it  is  quite  certain  it  is  all  done 
for  us,  and  intended  for  our  perpetual  pleasure. 
And  every  man,  wherever  placed,  however  far 
from  other  sources  of  interest  or  of  beauty,  has  this 
done  for  him  constantly.  . . . The  sky  is 

for  all. 

Ruskin, 

“Modern  Painters” 


We  nestle  in  Nature,  and  draw  our  living  as 
parasites  from  her  roots  and  grains,  and  we  re- 
ceive glances  from  the  heavenly  bodies,  which 
call  us  to  solitude  and  foretell  the  remotest  future. 
The  blue  zenith  is  the  point  in  which  romance  and 
reality  meet.  I think  If  we  should  be  rapt  away 
into  all  that  and  dream  of  heaven,  and  should 
converse  with  Gabriel  and  Uriel,  the  upper  sky 
Would  be  all  that  would  remain  of  our  furniture. 

Emerson, 

“Nature” 


55 


LOOKING  UP  THE  VALLEY 


AFTERNOON  CLOUDS 


ON  LOOKING  AT  THE  SKY 


^^HIS  has  been  a lovely  day. 

I ask  no  excuse  for  the  school- 
girlish  adjective.  It  fits.  Even  a 
schoolgirl  may  state  a scientific  truth  if 
the  fact  happens  to  suit  her  word. 

It  has  been  a lovely  day,  and  I have 
had  the  opportunity  to  enjoy  it  with  more 
than  usual  freedom.  I have  run  away  to  a 
lonely  hill  to  gain  a little  solitude  and  to 
detach  myself  from  too  much  work.  Before 
me  spreads  a panorama  of  New  England’s 
fairest  scenery, — sloping  green  pastures, 
interspersed  with  regal  centenarian  trees, 
and,  almost  hidden  in  the  distance,  a quiet, 
homely  village. 

A more  engaging  and  soul-satisfying 
landscape  it  would  be  hard  to  find.  But 
to-day  my  eyes  wandered  continually  to  the 
sky,  for  my  soul  sought  a larger  freedom 
and  a deeper  rest  than  could  be  expressed 
even  in  these  miles  of  peaceful  Massachu- 


57 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


setts  hills.  The  sky  is  often  the  best  part 
of  the  landscape. 

Every  little  while  I have  a quarrel  with 
some  too  honest  friend  about  my  definition 
of  the  landscape.  In  an  exhibition  of 
pictures  I hung  some  beautiful  marine 
views  (not  of  my  own  making).  “Why, 
look  here,”  said  my  matter-of-fact  friend, 
“these  are  not  landscapes ! There  is  no  land 
in  them.  They  are  all  water!” 

Another  friend  of  mine  contributed  to 
a show  of  landscape  photographs,  and  when 
it  was  over  said  that  his  own  prints 
were  the  only  landscape  pictures  shown: 
the  others  were  only  sketches. 

I recognize  no  such  limited  definition. 
For  me  the  landscape  is  anything  and  every- 
thing visible  in  the  world  of  out-of-doors. 
Visible,  I say;  yet  there  are  times  when  one 
can  smell  the  landscape,  as  at  haying  time, 
or  the  wheat  harvest,  or  the  spring  plowing. 
There  are  times  when  one  can  hear  the 
landscape, — in  the  pine  woods;  on  the  sand 
beach  where  the  breakers  fall.  Yes,  and 
times  when  the  sense  of  feeling  tells  its 
subtle,  sensuous  story, — as  when  the  warm 
August  wind  sweeps  across  the  Kansas 
prairies,  or  the  sea  breeze  salts  one’s  face. 


58 


ON  LOOKING  AT  THE  SKY 


or  the  bracing  stillness  of  a Quebec  winter 
morning  sends  one’s  blood  tingling  to  the 
surface. 

With  a woman’s  logic  I defy  all  critics, 
judges  and  lexicographers.  If  the  sea  and 
the  wind  and  the  sky  are  not  landscape, 
what  are  they?  Joshua  Bender  had  a large 
bowl  in  which  he  kept  soft  soap.  When  he 
put  it  on  the  inventory  for  the  auctioneer 
at  the  vendue  he  entered  it  as  “i  sope  bole.” 
And  when  his  daughter  called  him  to  task 
for  bad  spelling  he  said,  “Ef  that  don’t  spell 
soap  bowl  what  does  it  spell?”  But  my  case 
is  a better  one  than  Joshua  Bender’s. 

The  sky  is  a necessary  part  of  every 
complete  landscape.  The  painter  paints  it 
with  infinite  pains,  and  the  photographers 
insist  upon  it.  One  waggish  critic  of 
amateur  snap-shots  long  ago  called  those 
skyless  pictures  baldheaded  landscapes, 
and  his  word  has  stuck.  So  common,  so 
varied,  and  so  necessary  are  these  sky 
pictures  that  every  practical  photographer 
keeps  a selection  of  them  in  stock,  and  uses 
them  in  making  up  his  landscape  views. 

A representation  of  scenery  without  a sky 
is  like  a girl  without  a smile,  or  like  a mug 
of  beer  after  the  foam  has  died. 


59 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


To-day  I looked  up  into  the  arched 
heavens  and  saw  them  filled  with  beauties 
and  delights.  How  delicate,  how  varied, 
how  splendid  are  the  clouds!  One  might 
make  a lifetime  study  of  them.  Yet  it  is 
hardly  worth  while,  and  certainly  not  nec- 
essary. One  need  not  describe  them  or 
name  them.  The  only  absolutely  essential 
thing  is  to  enjoy  them.  I do  not  care 
whether  they  are  seven  miles  high  or 
seven  and  a half,  or  whether  they  are  made 
of  ice  crystals  or  peppermint  lozenges.  I 
can  see  for  myself  that  they  are  supremely 
beautiful. 

When  I was  a very  small  lad  and  used 
to  watch  the  clouds  with  other  children, 
we  used  to  be  forever  trying  to  make  out 
of  them  pictures  of  men,  animals  or  ships. 
We  wished  to  make  every  cloud  represent 
some  earthly  and  familiar  thing.  As  I 
remember  myself,  I think  we  expected  to 
find  such  pictures  in  the  heavens,  and  that 
this  expectation  was  founded  on  some  sort 
of  philosophy.  Our  psychology  seemed  to 
demand  some  practical  correspondence 
between  the  clouds  in  the  sky  and  the  beasts 
on  the  earth. 

But  to-day,  as  I lay  on  my  back  and 


60 


ON  LOOKING  AT  THE  SKY 


looked  up  into  the  blue  depths,  I saw  no 
camel,  no  dog,  no  kangaroo.  The  high 
wind-blown  cirrus  was  spread  against  the 
azure  heavens  in  strands  of  unspeakable 
grace,  yet  in  a form  of  power,  and  with  a 
feeling  of  virility.  It  would  be  a close  com- 
parison to  say  that  these  clouds  suggest 
the  sweeping  lines  in  the  best  paintings  of 
Sargent,  or  Whistler,  or  Dewing.  So 
to-day,  instead  of  seeing  fanciful  animals 
and  birds  among  the  clouds,  I could  rather 
imagine  that  I saw  the  souls  of  great  artists 
blown  against  the  sky.  That  graceful, 
awkward,  powerful  trailing  shape,  spread- 
ing upward  for  ten  miles  opposite  the  sun, 
pure,  spotless  and  serene,  might  be  the  soul 
of  Lincoln;  and  the  one  sporting  and 
laughing  in  the  sunshine  might  be  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson. 

It  is  not  alone  when  the  sky  is  warm 
and  full  of  sunshiny  clouds  that  it  is 
beautiful  and  greatly  to  be  loved.  I have 
laid  on  my  back,  too,  when  it  rained,  look- 
ing up  to  see  where  the  drops  come  from. 
Indeed,  one  can  see.  One  catches  sight  of 
them  a great  way  off,  and  it  is  jolly  fun  to 
see  them  hurrying  down  to  find  me.  They 
come  from  far  up  in  the  sky,  and  yet  from  a 


61 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


place  very  near, — a great  space  filled  with 
love  and  tenderness  and  blessing,  whence 
every  sort  of  gracious  ministry  falls  on  a 
thirsty  and  sometimes  unsatisfied  world. 

The  sky  is  equally  beautiful  in  a snow- 
fall, and  especially  so  at  the  beginning  of 
a warm  snow,  when  the  air  is  filled  with 
soft  feathery  floating  craft,  each  one  loaded 
with  pearls  and  rainbows.  The  German 
women  tell  their  children  that  the  old 
woman  is  picking  her  geese.  A more  poetic 
little  girl  said  that  the  angels  were  throw- 
ing kisses  to  the  children.  Lowell,  when 
he  looked  out  on  “The  First  Snow-Fall,” 
knew  that  God  was  sending  the  snowflakes 
to  heal  the  wounds  of  the  earth,  both  phys- 
ical and  spiritual.  It  is  worth  a man’s  time 
to  look  up  into  the  sky  and  see  where  the 
snowflakes  come  from. 

All  this  is  the  sky  of  the  day  season. 
But  the  night  cometh,  and  with  it  new 
beauties  and  beatitudes.  There  is  more 
of  brooding  tenderness  and  the  spirit  of 
motherhood  in  the  night  sky.  The  stars 
are  serene  and  still,  yet  they  sing  together 
like  the  choirs  of  the  judgment  day.  How 
many  they  are ! How  far  away  they  are ! Yet 
the  Infinite  Love  reaches  to  all  of  them. 


62 


ON  LOOKING  AT  THE  SKY 


To  see  the  stars  well  one  must  make 
his  camp  in  the  desert.  There,  as  he  lies 
rolled  for  the  night  in  his  blankets,  sur- 
rounded only  by  distance  and  desolation, 
he  looks  up  into  greater  beauties  than  all 
the  museums,  galleries  and  conservatories 
of  civilization  can  offer.  But  these  things 
can  be  seen  in  part  from  any  farm,  and  a 
little  even  from  the  street  corner.  The 
wonder  is  that  any  man  should  prefer  ser- 
mons or  Sunday  papers. 

The  sky  is  capable  of  tremendous 
shifts  and  changes.  I have  seen  “the  cloud 
battalions  wheel  and  form.”  Three  times 
in  my  life  I have  seen  the  cyclone  descend 
upon  the  earth  and  sweep  everything  in  its 
path.  Oh,  the  awful  majesty  of  that  sight! 
The  simple  memory  of  it  makes  a man’s 
heart  stand  still.  What  has  the  drama  or 
literature  or  painting,  or  any  art  to  put 
beside  that  picture? 

Every  mood  and  every  temper  has  its 
representative  in  the  clouds  and  the  sky. 
There  are  afternoons  when  the  heavens 
frown  like  Oliver  Cromwell,  days  when 
they  weep  like  Keats,  mornings  when  they 
are  as  fair  as  Esther. 

Above,  hangs  the  blue  dome,  the  de- 


63 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


spair  of  painters,  the  joy  of  pedestrians. 

It  is  as  wide  as  the  world,  as  high  as  heaven, 
as  infinite  as  love.  Brother,  how  often  do 
you  practise  to  stand  by  yourself  and  take 
a long  look  thither?  Does  not  your  life 
need  that  quiet,  that  exaltation,  that  peace? 

The  sky  and  the  sea  are  twin  types  of 
infinity.  As  we  gaze  steadfastly  upon 
either,  we  see  plainly  how  endless  are  space 
and  time,  and  how  small  our  present  vexa- 
tions. We  understand  how  much  there  is 
still  in  store  for  us, — yea,  how  much  is 
already  bestowed  upon  us.  Some  persons 
testify  that  in  such  a vision  they  see  their 
own  smallness;  but  it  were  better  and  truer 
to  be  able  to  say  that  here  one  sees  his  own 
greatness,  feels  his  divine  infinity,  and  lays 
hold  on  all  space  and  eternity. 

It  is  no  mere  matter  of  accident  that 
the  ancient  words  for  the  Deity  are  the 
same  as  for  the  sky,  such  as  Deus  and 
Dyaus.  When  those  far  aboriginal  peoples 
caught  the  first  glimmering  thought  of  God 
it  was  out  of  the  bright,  shining  sky, — 
the  smiling,  overarching,  protecting  sky, — 
and  they  looked  up  and  prayed  and  called 
Him  Deus,  that  is,  the  sky. 

I look  up  into  the  sky.  I see  it  filled 


64 


ON  LOOKING  AT  THE  SKY 


with  delectable  beauties  and  celestial 
promises.  Some  men  have  said  that  Heaven 
lies  that  way.  Perhaps.  At  any  rate,  I 
feel  sure  that  if  I could  realize  in  my  life 
the  largeness,  the  freedom  and  the  purity 
that  I see  there,  that  would  be  Heaven. 


65 


ESSAY  NUMBER  FIVE 

On  the  Weather 


The  sea  and  the  sfyy  are  always  changing. 
What  appears  at  first  a monotony  is,  in  fact,  an 
unending  diversity.  Time  was,  doubtless,  in  the 
infancy  of  the  earth  when  the  beds  of  the  oceans 
were  filled  with  pestilent  gases  and  vapors,  and 
time  may  be  in  the  earth's  old  age  when  the  seas 
will  be  great  frozen  depths  of  ice;  but  to-day 
they  are  in  their  prime,  in  the  heyday  of  their 
glory,  strong  in  mass  and  movement,  overwhelming 
in  extent  and  power,  splendid  in  color  and  light. 

J.  C.  Van  Dyke, 
“Nature  for  Its  Own  Sake” 


All  that  grows  has  grace, — 

All  are  appropriate, — bog  and  marsh  and  fen 
Are  only  poor  to  undiscerning  men. 

Crabbe 


69 


ON  THE  WEATHER 


HE  landscape  is  inseparable  from  the 
weather.  Every  change  in  tempera- 
ture, wind  or  humidity  introduces  a 
corresponding  change  in  the  aspect  of 
mountain  and  lake.  To  my  way  of  think- 
ing these  changes  present  differences  not 
of  degree,  but  of  quality  only.  The  land- 
scape always  seems  to  me  equally  beautiful, 
whether  in  rain,  or  mist,  or  full  sun.  I 
have  studied  the  woods  with  a camera  in 
all  weathers, — have  photographed  them  in 
the  noonday  shine,  in  fog,  in  silvery  mist, 
in  pouring  rain  and  in  a driving  January 
blizzard;  and  while  the  camera,  of  course, 
works  better  in  some  atmospheres  than  in 
others,  the  woods  themselves  are  never 
diminished  in  beauty  by  the  state  of  the 
weather.  If  we  begin  to  talk  about  different 
degrees  of  merit  we  shall  be  forced  to  admit, 
of  course,  that  some  of  the  most  beautiful 
effects  in  landscape  are  developed  in  what 
ignorant  and  superstitious  people  call  bad 
weather.  The  prairies  in  a snow-squall  are 


71 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


magnificent;  so  is  the  ocean  in  a storm. 
Even  Broadway  is  worth  seeing  in  a pour- 
ing rain. 

Speaking  of  “bad”  weather,  this  oppor- 
tunity cannot  pass  without  a challenge  to 
this  pet  superstition  of  civilization.  It  is 
too  bad  that  such  a foolish  notion  should 
have  such  universal  currency.  That  is  a 
wise  aphorism  of  Professor  Bailey’s  that 
the  weather  cannot  be  bad,  because  it  is 
not  a human  institution.  Many  persons 
will  still  think,  perhaps,  that  certain  sorts 
of  weather  are  disagreeable,  the  drizzling 
rain  in  the  city,  or  the  driving  storm  in  the 
country;  but  this  is  really  only  because  of 
their  own  negligence  in  not  being  prepared 
for  it. 

The  bugaboo  of  bad  weather  is  kept  alive 
principally  on  three  kinds  of  diet, — first,  a 
stupid  enslavement  to  conventionalities ; sec- 
ond, a thoughtless  neglect  of  proper  clothing ; 
and,  third,  the  truly  idiotic  habit  of  making 
the  weather  bear  the  burden  of  all  small  con- 
versation. Some  persons  dislike  the  rain 
because  it  spoils  their  clothes.  It  is  true 
that  one  can  not  comfortably  wear  trailing 
skirts  and  silk  petticoats  on  the  street  on 
rainy  days;  but  the  trailing  skirts  are  an 


72 


WINTER  WOODS 


SUNLIGHT  AND  BREEZE 


ON  THE  WEATHER 


abomination  under  any  circumstances,  and 
any  one  who  wears  them  certainly  has  no 
license  to  blame  the  rain.  Yet  people  who 
care  more  to  be  comfortable  than  to  be 
stylish  sometimes  suffer  from  inclemencies 
of  weather  because  they  do  not  provide 
themselves  with  proper  clothing.  Perhaps 
they  try  to  wear  the  same  underclothing 
the  year  round,  or  they  go  about  carelessly 
without  overshoes.  I saw  a man  once  on 
his  first  voyage  across  the  Atlantic.  He 
went  without  any  overcoat  or  blanket, 
because  it  was  July.  He  didn’t  know  any 
better,  and  he  suffered  for  it,  but  even  he 
could  not  help  saying  that  we  had  glorious 
weather  on  the  promenade  deck. 

But  what  shall  we  say  of  those  people 
who,  wishing  to  make  talk  and  having 
nothing  within  themselves  to  draw  on,  make 
capital  of  the  weather  and  call  it  “nawsty”? 
Their  crime  is  worse  than  ordinary  slander, 
because  the  defamation  falls  on  a great 
and  noble  object.  In  fact,  it  is  worse  than 
lese-majeste,  as  the  sky  is  higher  than  any 
earthly  potentate.  It  is  noteworthy,  too, 
that  the  weather  critics  are  chiefly  the  people 
who  stay  most  indoors  and  really  know  the 
least  about  the  weather. 


73 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Every  kind  of  weather  is  good.  I well 
remember  a record-breaking  blizzard  on  the 
plains.  All  day  long  and  into  the  night  I 
was  out  in  it  working  with  a herd  of  insuf- 
ficiently protected  cattle.  Some  of  the 
cattle  suffered,  but  I was  happy  and  I still 
look  back  on  that  day  with  joy.  It  certainly 
was  a glorious  spectacle  to  look  at.  For 
six  weeks  one  summer  I lay  abed  with  a 
raging  fever  in  a southern  country  where 
the  thermometer  every  day  ranged  well 
above  one  hundred  degrees,  yet  I still 
remember  with  delight  the  wavering,  cool- 
ing breeze  that  came  in  at  the  open  window, 
and  the  magnificence  of  the  thunder 
showers  that  swept  over  the  sky  while  I 
lay  there.  I was  not  well  nor  happy  those 
days,  but  I couldn’t  blame  the  weather  for 
it.  I have  been  on  the  open  ocean  when 
the  wind  blew  a gale,  and  when  every  third 
roller  came  sweeping  over  the  upper  deck. 

I confess  I was  miserably  sick,  but  I laid  that, 
not  to  the  wind,  but  to  my  stomach.  When 
I could  momentarily  command  that  rebel- 
lious organ,  I went  on  deck  and  faced  the 
storm,  and  I thought  it  was  the  most 
glorious  weather  I ever  saw.  I envied 
those  old  sailors  with  their  waterproof 


74 


ON  THE  WEATHER 


stomachs,  who  could  stand  on  the  bridge 
and  nose  it  all  day  long,  and  I begrudged 
the  sea-gulls  their  easy  enjoyment  of  it.  No ; 
when  we  say  we  are  not  suited  with  the 
weather,  it  is  always  some  little  defect  of 
our  own  that  is  to  blame,  and  usually  one 
that  could  be  easily  remedied.  With  Pro- 
fessor Bailey,  I hope  the  time  will  soon 
come  when  intelligent  people  will  cease  to 
talk  about  “bad”  weather. 

A twin  superstition  is  the  one  about 
“bad”  climates.  We  are  forever  hearing 
that  this  or  that  district  has  a bad  climate — 
“an  unhealthy  climate,”  they  call  it  in  the 
vernacular.  Science  has  demonstrated  that 
there  is  no  such  thing.  Where  people  used 
to  charge  the  ague  up  to  the  climate,  we  now 
know  that  we  are  dealing  only  with  mos- 
quitoes. Even  the  dreaded  yellow  fever  is 
not  propagated  by  an  untoward  climate, 
but  it,  too,  is  spread  abroad  by  insects. 

Any  climate  is  good  if  you  get  enough 
of  it.  Men  with  weak  lungs  used  to  go  to 
Colorado  and  be  cured.  It  was  because  they 
were  obliged  to  live  out-of-doors  in  Colo- 
rado. The  men  who  have  done  the  most 
to  stop  the  ravages  of  the  white  plague  have 
done  it  by  making  their  patients  take  the 


75 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


weather.  On  the  face  of  it  nothing  could 
look  more  unpromising  than  to  make  a frail 
and  waning  woman  sleep  in  the  woods, 
with  the  temperature  at  zero,  and  the  snow 
falling  on  her  couch;  yet  this  is  precisely 
what  she  needs.  And  even  in  the  impure 
air  of  New  York  City  men  and  women  by 
hundreds  are  cured  of  consumption  in  its 
early  stages,  simply  by  working  and  sleeping 
out-of-doors,  and  taking  the  weather  as  it 
comes. 

If  one  takes  this  point  of  view  it  will 
be  seen  that  he  leaves  small  praise  for  those 
migratory  men  and  women  of  nerves  and  lei- 
sure, who  are  always  flitting  about  the  coun- 
try in  search  of  a more  agreeable  climate. 
They  spend  two  months  in  Florida  or 
Southern  California,  a month  at  Asheville, 
a fortnight  at  Old  Point,  a few  days  at 
Atlantic  City,  and  are  on  the  move  again 
for  the  Adirondacks  and  the  Thousand 
Islands.  In  trying  to  equalize  the  climate 
they  lose  the  variety  and  spice  of  life,  and 
gain  neither  health  nor  comfort  in  return. 

Then  there  are  the  real  estate  agents 
who  play  on  this  whim,  and  who  advertise 
their  particular  localities  as  having  such 
remarkably  equable  climate.  They  pub- 


76 


ON  THE  WEATHER 


lish  temperature  charts  showing  that  the 
thermometer  never  goes  above  70  degrees 
in  the  summer,  nor  below  60  degrees  in 
the  winter.  I am  surprised  that  anybody 
cares  to  live  in  such  a country.  I prefer 
a wider  variety  in  my  allotment.  I like 
to  run  the  whole  gamut  of  weather.  In 
our  country,  where  we  get  three  whole 
octaves,  chromatic  scale,  with  trills  on 
high  C,  and  shakes  on  low  G, — sometimes 
all  within  the  space  of  a week, — here  there 
is  some  music  to  life.  Here  we  see  the 
world  in  a myriad  moods.  Here  the  land- 
scape panorama  moves  from  scene  to  scene 
as  season  follows  season,  and  even  as  day 
treads  upon  day.  The  world  is  new  to  us 
every  morning,  and  always  fresh  and  full 
of  loveliness. 

This  much  had  to  be  said  toward  put- 
ting down  silly  complainers.  It  is  more 
to  our  interest,  however,  to  notice  how  the 
changes  of  the  weather  multiply  the  beau- 
ties of  landscape.  To-day  I saw  the  river 
covered  by  a thick  mist,  between  snow  and 
rain.  Yesterday  it  was  under  a gray  win- 
try sky,  white  and  solemn,  bound  in  snow 
and  ice.  To-morrow  it  may  be  flooded 
with  sunshine  and  flashing  back  the  light 


77 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


like  the  flaming  sword  of  the  archangel. 

It  is  always  the  same  physical  landscape, — 
the  same  quiet  millpond,  the  same  gurgling 
rapids  below,  the  same  tall  pines  on  the 
bank  beyond  and  the  same  old  mill  in  the 
foreground; — but  it  is  a hundred  different 
pictures  every  month  as  the  weather 
changes.  The  kaleidoscope  turns  even 
with  the  hours  of  the  day,  for  the  pines  are 
dark  in  the  morning,  while  they  catch  the 
sun  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  millpond, 
which  is  bright  with  the  midday  light, 
gathers  heavy  shadows  from  the  western 
hills  when  the  sun  begins  to  sink. 

In  a photographic  club  to  which  I 
belong,  prints  are  habitually  submitted 
marked  with  the  dates  showing  when  the 
negatives  were  made.  Occasionally  an 
artist  makes  an  error  in  copying  his  data, 
and  marks  December  on  a picture  which 
was  really  made  in  November.  But  such 
mistakes  are  always  quickly  detected,  for 
the  difference  in  the  landscape  is  so  great, 
even  between  neighboring  months,  that  any 
ordinary  photograph  will  show  it.  And  a 
picture  might  as  well  be  untrue  to  the 
clouds  or  the  foreground  as  to  distort  the 
calendar  or  be  untrue  to  the  weather. 


78 


ON  THE  WEATHER 


The  practical  landscape  gardener  has 
to  have  due  regard  everywhere  to  the 
climate  and  to  its  habitual  traits  of  weather. 
He  will  not  make  a sun  parlor  in  Arizona, 
nor  will  he  insist  on  shady  pergolas  in 
Quebec.  But  even  beyond  the  creature 
comfort  of  his  clients  he  should  design  his 
landscape  pictures  with  an  eye  quick  to  the 
effects  which  they  are  to  yield  in  the  round 
of  local  meteorologies.  An  Italian  garden, 
with  its  terraces,  balustrades  and  statuary, 
would  look  sick  and  lonesome  in  Kansas 
during  a March  wind.  The  clustering 
groves  of  cottonwood  and  box-elder  which 
look  so  cheerful  and  homelike  under  the 
glistening  sun  of  Greeley,  Colorado,  would 
look  tame  and  flat  in  the  soft,  diffused, 
many-colored  light  of  Kent  or  Sussex. 

The  fine  and  dignified  terraces  which  adorn 
the  banks  of  the  Rhine  at  Cologne  would 
look  dreary,  or  even  tawdry,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Mississippi  at  St.  Louis. 

Yes,  the  landscape  and  the  weather 
are  absolutely  interdependent  parts  of  one 
picture,  wherefore  they  must  be  adjusted  to 
one  another  with  the  utmost  nicety ; and  the 
man  who  would  enjoy  the  one  must  know 
and  love  the  other. 


79 


ESSAY  NUMBER  SIX 

On  the  Art  Which  Mends 

Nature 


A novel  country;  1 might  make  it  mine 
By  choosing  rvhich  one  aspect  of  the  year 
Suited  mood  best,  and  putting  solely  that 
On  panel  somewhere  in  the  House  of  Fame, 
Landscaping  what  I saved,  not  what  I saw; 

Might  fix  you,  whether  frost  in  goblin-time 
Startled  the  moon  with  his  abrupt  bright  laugh. 

Or,  August's  hair  afloat  in  filmy  fire. 

She  fell,  arms  wide,  face  foremost  on  the  world. 
Swooned  there  and  so  singed  out  the  strength  of 
things. 

Thus  were  abolished  Spring  and  Autumn  both. 
The  land  dwarfed  to  one  likeness  of  the  land. 

Life  cramped  corpse-fashion.  Rather  learn  and  love 
Each  facet- flash  of  the  revolving  year! 

Robert  Browning, 

“The  Ring  and  the  Book” 


83 


ON  THE  ART  WHICH  MENDS 
NATURE 

“This  is  an  art 
Which  does  mend  nature, 
change  it  rather,  but 
The  art  itself  is  nature.” 

fN  all  the  old-time  debating  clubs  there 
were  three  live  issues:  the  relative 
destructiveness  of  fire  and  water,  the 
joy  of  pursuit  versus  the  satisfaction  of 
possession,  and  the  comparative  beauty 
of  the  works  of  art  and  the  works  of 
nature.  Well  do  I remember  how,  when 
our  school  district  was  matched  against 
No.  23,  adjoining  us  on  the  south, 

I heroically  defended  the  beauties  of  art 
against  the  teacher  of  the  opposing  school, 
who  sought  to  show  that  only  nature  was 
fit  to  be  admired!  Oh,  those  were  Homeric 
days,  and  the  question  fitted  the  times. 
What  think  you,  my  cultured  reader,  in 
this  year  of  grace,  are  the  works  of  art  more 
to  be  loved  than  those  of  nature? 


85 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Would  it  not  seem  comfortable  to  com- 
promise so  great  a controversy?  There  is 
a place  where  such  a compromise  can 
honorably  be  made.  It  is  in  the  field  of 
landscape  gardening.  Here  art  and  nature 
combine  so  perfectly  that  none  may  say,  lo 
this  is  art,  or  see  here  nature.  “The  art 
itself  is  nature.” 

Indeed,  the  art  of  landscape  gardening 
is  so  near  to  nature  that  some  have  denied 
it  the  right  to  be  called  an  art  at  all.  A 
certain  modern  university  text-book  of 
sound  qualities  and  high  reputation  pre- 
tends to  classify  all  the  fine  arts  and  to 
estimate  the  scope  and  power  of  each.  The 
successive  chapters  discuss  painting,  sculp- 
ture, poetry,  etc.,  down  to  dancing,  which 
is  ably  defended  for  a place  in  the  list;  but 
the  art  of  landscape  gardening  is  unplaced 
and  forgotten.  This  is  certainly  surprising, 
but  it  illustrates  the  vulgar  neglect  of  this 
subject.  Landscape  gardening  is  the  most 
recent  of  the  arts,  and  the  least  under- 
stood. It  is  hardly  known  as  a definite 
separate  thing,  even  among  its  practi- 
tioners; so  that  a deep  and  widespread 
ignorance  of  its  aims  and  methods  may 
be  excused  in  the  laity. 


86 


ART  WHICH  MENDS  NATURE 


This  chaotic,  formative,  initiatory 
state  of  affairs  could  hardly  be  better  illus- 
trated than  in  the  fact  that  the  men  most 
deeply  engaged  in  the  art  have  not  decided 
what  to  call  it.  Some  call  it  landscape 
gardening,  some  call  it  landscape  architect- 
ure, and  some  weakly  evade  the  issue  by 
talking  of  landscape  art.  Now,  it  is  not 
worth  quarreling  over  these  names,  for 
not  one  of  them  is  quite  satisfactory.  His- 
torically, the  term  landscape  gardening 
ought  to  be  preferred, — but,  theoretically 
at  least,  the  art  is  more  closely  allied  to 
architecture  than  to  gardening.  One  can- 
not avoid  the  rather  mean  suspicion,  how- 
ever, that  the  present  fashion  among  the 
professional  brethren  to  call  themselves 
landscape  architects  is  promoted  by  two 
accidental  causes,  first,  the  feeling  that 
architecture  sounds  bigger  than  gardening 
and  can  command  a better  fee;  and,  second, 
the  fact  that  the  architectural  style  of 
landscape  work  is  the  present  vogue  among 
wealthy  clients.  However,  we  will  let  that 
matter  rest  now.  It  is  cited  here  only  to 
illustrate  the  unsettled  state  of  our  ideas. 

Landscape  gardening  is  a fine  art  for 
the  same  reason  that  painting  or  music  is; 


87 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


namely,  because  it  leads  to  something  beau- 
tiful. To  be  more  specific,  we  might  say 
that  it  is  a fine  art  because  it  produces 
organized  beauty.  Simple  objects  of  beauty, 
like  a rose  or  a blue  tile,  are  born  or  made 
in  various  ways — not  necessarily  in  the 
ways  of  art; — but  their  combinations  into 
organic  schemes  wherein  each  member 
serves  a particular  office,  and  wherein  all 
the  members  of  any  one  scheme  constitute 
a whole  organism,  every  part  duly  and 
organically  related  to  every  other  part — 
that  is  art.  And  when  these  various  ele- 
ments happen  to  be  trees,  flowers,  lawns, 
and  pergolas,  the  art  which  organizes  them 
is  landscape  gardening. 

Now,  this  art  is  fairly  entitled  to  take 
high  place  in  the  general  company  of  fine 
arts  for  several  reasons ; first  of  all,  for  the 
very  great  difficulties  which  have  to  be 
overcome.  The  genius  of  art  is  in  the 
overcoming  of  difficulties. 

The  first  great  difficulty  that  the  land- 
scape gardener  meets  lies  in  the  fact  that 
his  composition  is  seen  from  no  fixed  point 
of  view.  This  seems  so  great  an  obstacle 
that  Professor  Santayana  thought  it  could 
never  be  overcome,  and  this  led  him  to 


88 


ROYAL  PALM  AVENUE 

J.  Horace  McFarland 


SOUVENIR  OF  PETIT  TRIANON,  VERSAILLES 


ART  WHICH  MENDS  NATURE 


speak  of  the  landscape  as  having  no  compo- 
sition. But  Olmsted  and  Vaux  made 
compositions  which  were  satisfying  from 
all  points  of  view.  Instead  of  painting  a 
landscape  on  canvas  to  be  enjoyed  from 
a point  twenty  feet  exactly  in  front  of  the 
frame,  the  real  landscape, — composed  by  a 
proper  artist,  is  enjoyed  from  every  side, 
and  from  every  distance.  The  landscape 
gardener  never  undertakes  anything  sim- 
pler than  a cyclorama. 

Another  great  test  has  to  be  met  in 
the  changes  brought  by  passing  years.  The 
sculptor’s  marble  rests  in  proverbial  de- 
fiance of  time,  but  in  the  gardener’s  picture 
the  elements  are  always  fluent.  The  trees 
grow,  the  flowers  die  away,  and  even  the 
paths  and  water-courses  change.  As  a 
rule,  the  gardener  must  wait  a number  of 
years  for  Nature  to  complete  the  picture 
which  his  imagination  has  planned.  Mean- 
while he  presents  a series  of  tentative 
sketches,  changing  them  every  year,  every 
one  beautiful  and  possibly  perfect  in  itself 
up  to  the  top  of  the  scale.  Then  for  a 
day  the  picture  is  finished.  From  that 
point  the  garden  may  go  slowly  down  in 
picturesque  decay,  and  even  this  may  be 


89 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


foreseen  and  turned  to  account  by  the 
artist  in  landscape. 

Still  more  radical  and  embarrassing  are 
the  changes  wrought  by  the  succeeding 
seasons  of  the  year.  The  garden  is  one 
thing  in  January,  and  quite  a different 
thing  in  May,  and  still  another  thing  in 
October.  The  gardener  is  not  dismissed 
when  he  composes  one  picture  from  one 
point  of  view,  nor  yet  when  he  has  com- 
posed a thousand  in  one  for  a thousand 
points  of  view,  nor  yet  when  he  has  pro- 
jected ten  thousand  pictures  for  ten 
successive  years:  he  must  make  it  twelve 
times  ten  thousand,  so  that  every  month  in 
the  year  may  have  its  peculiar  beauty. 

It  seems  like  carrying  this  argument 
to  a ridiculous  exaggeration  but  it  is  quite 
true  that  the  landscape  gardener  must 
regard  also  the  changes  which  come  from 
hour  to  hour  during  the  day.  As  the  sun- 
shine strikes  on  one  side  in  the  morning, 
and  on  the  other  side  in  the  afternoon, 
each  picture  is  profoundly  modified.  The 
artists  who  work  on  canvas, — and  who  have 
had  such  a comparatively  easy  time  of  it, — 
take  great  pains  with  the  light.  It  must 
come  from  such  and  such  a point,  must 


90 


ART  WHICH  MENDS  NATURE 


strike  at  such  and  such  an  angle,  and  must 
give  specified  effects  of  sun  and  shadow. 
One  whole  field  of  art  study  (chiaroscuro) 
is  devoted  to  a consideration  of  these 
matters.  Yet  the  landscape  gardener  has 
to  shift  his  chiaroscuro  with  every  striking 
of  the  clock,  and  to  make  it  pleasing  in 
twelve  different  styles  every  day,  for 
twelve  different  months  in  the  year,  for 
an  indefinite  series  of  years,  for  the 
thousand  different  pictures  which  first 
made  up  his  little  garden.  From  painting 
a cyclorama  he  has  passed  to  the  making 
of  a kaleidoscope. 

Something  has  been  said  by  way  of 
comparing  the  landscape  gardener  with 
the  painter  in  the  treatment  of  lights  and 
shadows.  In  the  management  of  atmos- 
phere the  comparison  is  equally  interesting. 
The  painter  rightly  takes  great  pains  in  this 
matter.  It  is  a comparatively  simple  task 
to  draw  a tree  or  a house,  but  to  fill  the 
picture  with  warm  sunshine  or  wet  fog  is 
more  to  the  abilities  of  a master.  Now,  the 
landscape  gardener  must  have  atmosphere 
in  his  pictures,  too.  To  be  sure,  Nature 
supplies  it,  but  the  artist  cannot  stupidly 
accept  what  Nature  sends,  take  his  chances 


91 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


with  the  weather,  and  let  it  go  at  that.  If 
he  cannot  make  the  atmosphere  for  his 
picture,  he  must  make  his  picture  to  fit  the 
atmosphere,  which  is  a more  heroic  under- 
taking truly,  and  one  fit  to  measure  genius. 

The  careless  reader  may  feel  that  this 
is  a rather  fine-spun  theory  of  the  land- 
scape artist’s  work,  but  the  critics  know 
it  is  not.  The  truly  great  work  has  this 
for  its  final  merit,  that  it  is  always  true  to 
its  atmosphere.  And,  per  contra,  some  of 
the  mediocre  and  unsuccessful  pieces  seem 
always  to  have  found  an  atmosphere  alien 
to  them  and  inharmonious  with  their  spirit. 
This  is  one  great  reason  why  the  Italian 
garden  is  a failure  in  England. 

However,  the  greatness  of  art  is  not  so 
much  in  meeting  obstacles  as  in  overcom- 
ing them.  It  is  some  fair  credit  to  the 
landscape  gardener  that  he  has  the  courage 
to  attack  such  difficulties  as  those  which 
confront  him.  But  it  is  much  more  to  his 
praise  that  he  surmounts  them.  This  the 
best  landscape  gardeners  really  do. 

Consider  the  work  of  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted.  Study  carefully  the  grounds  of 
the  Columbian  Exposition  in  Chicago,  or 
the  Muddy  Brook  Parkway,  Boston,  or 


92 


ART  WHICH  MENDS  NATURE 


the  grounds  of  the  railway  station  at  Wel- 
lesley Farms.  Here  the  whole  series  of 
obstacles  have  been  frankly  met  and 
triumphantly  overcome.  The  more  one 
looks  at  any  one  of  these  pieces  of  work, 
changing  from  one  point  of  view  to  another, 
coming  again  and  again  at  different  sea- 
sons, at  different  hours  of  the  day,  and  in 
different  weathers,  the  surer  one  grows  that 
the  whole  series  of  pictures  is  good.  Such 
study  will  reveal,  too,  the  value  of  premedi- 
tation in  the  arrangement  of  all  the  parts 
of  the  landscape, — will  show  that  the  whole 
thing  really  came  from  the  hand  of  an 
artist,  and  that  it  is  not  a fortuitous  con- 
course of  exceptionally  agreeable  and 
naturally  unrelated  elements. 

The  camera  is  the  great  detective. 
Apply  the  camera  to  the  works  of  the  land- 
scape gardener  and  you  have  one  of  the 
severest  tests.  The  photographability 
(save  the  word)  of  the  gardener’s  work 
shows  the  perfection  of  its  composition. 
When  it  shows  good  masses  with  pleasing 
lights  and  shadows  from  all  points  of  view, 
we  may  fairly  allow  that  the  work  is  an 
artistic  success. 

Wherefore  the  study  of  landscape  gar- 


93 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


dening  is  altogether  worth  while,  not  alone 
because  it  offers  some  aesthetic  pleasure, 
but  also  because  it  opens  a field  for  aesthetic 
self-expression,  and  a capital  opportunity 
even  for  the  display  of  the  most  masterful 
artistic  genius. 


94 


ESSAY  NUMBER  SEVEN 


Concerning  the  American 

Landscape 


Stream  of  my  fathers!  sweetly  still. 

The  sunset  rays  thy  valley  fill; 

Poured  slantwise  down  the  long  defile. 

Wave,  wood  and  spire  beneath  them  smile. 

I see  the  winding  Powow  fold 
The  green  hill  in  its  belt  of  gold. 

And  following  down  its  wavy  line. 

Its  sparkling  waters  blend  with  thine. 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier, 

“The  Merrimack” 


97 


CONCERNING  THE  AMERICAN 
LANDSCAPE 


fT  is  an  habitual  trick  of  complacency 
with  certain  Americans  to  say  that  no 
one  should  visit  Europe  until  he  has 
seen  the  sights  of  this  continent.  Until 
he  has  seen  the  sights!  Ah,  yes!  The 
traveler  is  a sightseer,  and  he  must  have  a 
spectacle  for  his  money.  There  we  have 
the  whole  vulgarity  of  it  in  a word. 

This  unthoughtful  phrase  shows  what 
such  persons  unconsciously  take  to  be  the 
landscape.  For  them  it  is  always  Niagara 
Falls,  Old  Faithful,  the  Big  Trees,  or  the 
Grand  Canon.  They  flit  about  the  con- 
tinent on  the  fastest  trains,  from  one  great 
sight  to  another.  On  the  intervening 
thousands  of  miles,  they  withdraw  to  their 
staterooms  and  read  the  latest  novels. 

If  such  persons  are  put  to  it  they 
always  insist  patriotically  that  we  have  in 
America  the  finest  landscape  known  to  any 
part  of  the  world,  just  as  they  will  claim 
the  superiority  of  our  political  system,  or 


99 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  pre-eminence  of  America  in  literature. 
Doubtless,  they  ought  to  be  pardoned  for 
telling  the  truth  with  such  very  good 
intentions,  but  it  is  sad  to  think  that  they 
can  give  no  better  reason  for  the  faith  that 
was  born  in  them. 

Or,  to  put  it  differently:  we  would  all 
like  to  believe  that  the  American  landscape 
is  the  best  the  Creator  ever  designed,  but 
our  faith  is  forced  to  rest  on  a sadly  insuffi- 
cient, unreasoned  and  uninformed  basis  of 
observation. 

Mr.  Kinosuke  Adachi,  in  a delightful 
essay  on  Japanese  landscape  gardening, 
tells  how  the  apprentice-gardener  of  Nippon 
must  take  his  note-book  and  travel  for 
months  through  the  Flowery  Kingdom,  ma- 
king intimate  studies  from  nature,  with 
notes  and  sketches  of  all  he  sees,  and  feels, 
and  dreams.  For  he  must  not  only  see  and 
know  the  natural  landscape, — he  must  feel 
its  beauties,  and  must  dream  its  most  inner 
meaning  before  he  can  begin  to  make  land- 
scapes of  his  own. 

It  is  a fine  picture.  The  young  gar- 
dener with  all  his  best  aspirations  attune, 
and  with  his  soul  quick  to  every  touch  of 
beauty,  going  to  such  an  almost  holy  quest, 


100 


THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 


compels  our  sympathy  and  enthusiasm. 

And  I wonder  if  any  young  American  ever 
went  forth  to  learn  and  feel  and  dream 
Columbia’s  beauties,  as  this  Japanese  ap- 
prentice goes  to  study  the  loveliness  of 
Nippon. 

The  suggestion  is  almost  overpower- 
ing. The  very  word  shows  us  how  scant 
and  superficial  has  always  been  our  thought 
of  the  landscape  in  which  we  live.  What 
might  not  one  find  were  he  to  go  to  Amer- 
ica’s fields  and  lakes  and  mountains  in  this 
spirit?  Something  different,  indeed,  from  a 
series  of  cheap  spectacular  public  exhibits, 
to  be  conveniently  push-button  photo- 
graphed, to  be  sent  home  on  souvenir  post- 
cards, or  to  be  trapped  out  for  a summer 
hotel  advertisement. 

No,  the  landscape  is  not  a show,  to  be 
seen  and  forgotten.  It  is  the  environment 
in  which  we  live.  Out  of  it  we  draw  breath 
and  without  it  there  would  be  no  breathing. 
Through  it  the  sun  sends  us  his  heat,  and 
the  moon  her  pale  mysterious  light.  We 
walk  on  the  landscape,  we  drink  of  it;  in  it 
we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being. 
We  go  a mile,  and  the  landscape  goes  with 
us.  We  are  born  into  it,  and  not  even 


101 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


death,  nor  any  other  creature  can  separate 
us  from  it. 

Yet  even  with  its  nearness  and  its  per- 
suasiveness, we  disallow  it.  We  forget  it. 
Or,  if  we  catch  a glimpse  of  it  in  the  mirror 
of  temporary  sanity,  we  go  away  and 
straightway  forget  what  manner  of  men  we 
are.  We  do  not  feel  it,  cherish  it  as  we 
ought,  cultivate  its  intimate  acquaintance, 
nor  love  it  consciously  and  reasonably. 

The  American  landscape  is,  first  of  all, 
large.  This  sounds  like  a vulgar  claim  to 
make  for  it;  but  Aristotle  said  that  any 
object  to  be  beautiful  must  have  a certain 
magnitude.  Microscopic  views,  strictly 
speaking,  cannot  be  beautiful.  But  height 
and  depth  and  space  in  a landscape  mean 
vastly  more  than  in  a statue,  a painting, 
or  a piece  of  music.  A mountain  cannot  be 
a mountain  until  it  is  a thousand  feet  high, 
and  if  a river  is  not  large  enough,  it  may 
be  mistaken  for  a brook.  I like  Champlain 
better  than  Lake  George,  chiefly  because 
it  is  larger.  The  plains  of  Kansas  and 
Texas  are  magnificent  for  their  illimitable, 
unbroken  stretch.  The  great  passes  of  the 
Rockies  lift  our  souls  out  of  our  puny 
bodies  just  by  virtue  of  the  sheer  stupen- 


102 


THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 


dous  height  of  the  encircling  mountains. 
Yes,  mere  largeness  has  its  aesthetic  value. 
Size  counts. 

In  the  beauty  of  landscape,  size  plays 
a more  important  role  than  anywhere  else, 
outside  of  military  tactics.  The  vast 
breadth  of  the  ocean,  and  the  height  of  the 
mountains  give  us  our  sense  of  the  sublime. 
Here  we  have  a whole  range  of  most 
poignant  human  emotions  opened  and 
measured  to  us  by  the  big  things  in  the 
landscape.  Outside  these  things  we  hardly 
know  sublimity,  and  if  we  use  the  word  in 
any  other  connection  it  is  usually  with 
apologies. 

The  American  landscape  is  wild.  In 
many  places  it  is  truly  savage.  Here  and 
there  it  has  all  the  fierce  tempestuous  wild- 
ness of  the  god-like  conflict  in  which  the 
world  was  made.  No  one  can  compare  Eng- 
land with  America,  for  example,  without  see- 
ing that  the  English  landscape  is  cultivated, 
subdued,  humanized,  in  a sense  overcome  by 
the  operations  of  man.  The  German 
forests  are  ordered  like  gardens,  and  look 
no  more  like  the  riotous  wilds  of  Canada 
or  Minnesota  than  a chess-board  looks  like 
a battlefield.  To  be  sure,  there  is  some 


103 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


subjugation  of  the  landscape  in  America, 
and  likely  to  be  more ; but  the  great  reaches 
of  the  American  lakes  and  mountains  must 
stand  eternally  above  the  encroachments  of 
man.  They  will  forever  express,  more  per- 
fectly than  other  landscapes,  the  gigantic 
forces  of  the  creation. 

Again,  the  American  landscape  is 
diverse.  There  are  all  kinds  of  landscape 
on  our  continent.  There  are  big,  threaten- 
ing mountains,  and  quiet,  peaceful  little 
ones;  there  are  broad  inland  seas;  there 
are  vast  fertile  plains ; there  are  noble  rivers 
and  gurgling,  gossiping  brooks;  there  are 
pine  forests  and  palmetto  groves.  Swit- 
zerland has  one  sort  of  scenery;  Holland 
has  another;  England,  still  another: 
America  has  all  kinds. 

But  more  than  diversity,  the  American 
landscape  has  versatility.  We  complain 
sometimes  of  our  changeable  weather  and 
our  extremes  of  climate,  but  these  extremes 
are  responsible,  in  part,  for  the  kaleidoscopic 
transformations  of  our  fields  and  hills.  In 
a great  German  text-book  of  botany  I saw 
printed  with  infinite  pains  a sketch  of 
autumn  colors  on  Lake  Ontario.  No  other 
landscape  in  the  world  can  furnish  autumn 


104 


Frank  A.  Waugh 


THE  PATH  ALONG  THE  HILLSIDE 

Wm.  T.  Knox 


THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 


paintings  to  compare  with  ours.  Then 
there  are  our  New  England  winters  (not 
unknown  to  poetry),  and  our  Arizona  sum- 
mers, and  the  springtime  in  Coronado  and 
Palm  Beach. 

Think  of  the  fields!  There  are  the 
cotton  fields  of  Alabama,  the  wheat  fields 
of  Kansas,  the  rolling  grass  fields  of  Ver- 
mont, and  the  orchard-covered  hillsides  of 
New  York  State.  They  all  cry  aloud  and 
clap  their  hands  for  joy.  That  painter 
would  be  immortal  who  could  truly  picture 
one  of  them.  I have  spent  certain  happy 
days  in  the  fields  of  England;  I have  stood 
on  the  rolling  fields  of  Alsace,  when  the 
grain  fields  stretching  away  toward  the 
Moselle  seemed  like  the  choicest  lands  of 
Paradise;  but  if  I have  a dispassionate  judg- 
ment left  in  me,  I must  still  prefer  the 
Shenandoah  Valley  and  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson. 

And  then  what  lakes  are  ours!  Su- 
perior, Michigan,  Huron,  Erie,  and  Ontario 
— the  pentateuch  of  the  continent.  Besides 
them  we  have  thousands  of  others, — 
Cayuga,  Seneca,  and  Oneida;  Champlain 
and  George;  Memphremagog  and  Winne- 
pesaukee;  Okechobee  and  the  Great  Dismal 


105 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Swamp.  Killarney  is,  doubtless,  a pretty 
lake,  and  I would  like  to  go  and  see  it. 
Neufchatel  is  a beautiful  sheet  of  water, 
and  the  best  of  all  I saw  in  Switzerland. 
But  one  can  live  with  such  lakes  as  Seneca 
and  Winnepesaukee.  I lived  seven  years 
with  Champlain,  and  loved  it  better  every 
day.  And  the  landscape  was  made  to  be 
lived  in, — not  for  occasional  visits. 

We  have  trees  in  America.  It  is  no 
vain,  boastful  Americanism  to  say  we  have 
the  greatest  trees  in  the  world.  The  red- 
woods of  California  are  indeed  a sight,  and 
so  not  proper  to  the  true  uses  of  landscape. 
But  the  maples  of  Ohio,  the  long-leaf  pines 
of  South  Carolina,  and  the  elms  of  Con- 
necticut are  unsurpassed  and  unsurpassable. 
I once  told  an  Englishman  (under  provoca- 
tion) that  the  trees  in  the  Connecticut 
valley  were  finer  than  anything  in  Britain. 
He  upbraided  me  vehemently  for  prejudice; 
but  afterward,  when  he  visited  Sunderland, 
Amherst,  Old  Hadley,  and  Northampton, 
he  was  as  fully  convinced  as  I was. 

The  Himalayas  must  be  glorious.  I 
should  like  to  see  them  before  they  become 
fashionable.  But  meanwhile  I enjoy  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  and  with  all  my  heart  I 


106 


THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 


love  the  Adirondacks  and  the  Green  Moun- 
tains. If  that  poet  who  made  such  a de- 
lightful book  about  Little  Rivers  had  my 
notions  of  the  world,  he  would  make  a 
better  book  about  Little  Mountains.  There 
are  the  Catskills  in  New  York,  and  the 
Wichitas  in  Oklahoma,  and  the  Bear  Paw 
Mountains  in  Montana.  These  little  moun- 
tains are  particularly  good  because  men 
can  live  with  them.  There  are  pastures  and 
hay  fields  and  gardens  of  potatoes  almost 
to  their  summits.  Here  and  there  one  sees 
a zigzagging  road  and  a farmhouse.  Men 
and  women  live  there,  and  the  landscape 
grows  into  their  lives. 

The  great  geographic  regions  of  the 
continent  have  their  characteristic  land- 
scape tone.  There  is  the  New  England 
landscape,  which  is  of  its  own  sort,  best 
described  by  naming  it.  The  stretches  of 
flat  coast  plain  scattered  with  long-leaf 
pine  make  another  kind  of  landscape  in  the 
Carolinas.  The  Great  Lakes  have  their 
proper  beauties  and  the  plains  theirs,  and 
the  mountains  beyond  another  character. 
Every  one  is  good  in  its  place. 

Yet  these  are  only  general  aspects. 
The  landscape  grows  better  and  better  as 


107 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


we  get  nearer  to  it,  and  know  it  more 
intimately  through  daily  association.  Thus, 
the  landscape  of  Litchfield  is  better  than 
the  landscape  of  Connecticut,  and  the  hills 
and  meadows  of  my  great-grandfather’s 
farm  far  better  than  all  the  rest  of  Litch- 
field. Every  old  and  real  farm  has  its  own 
landscape,  which  is,  indeed,  its  very  physical 
matter.  It  has  its  own  stream,  or  hill,  or 
woodland,  with  fields,  fences,  sentinel  trees, 
and  eternal  stones.  Here  is  where  the 
world  begins  to  have  a meaning. 

I have  hinted  that  I think  the  American 
landscape  the  best  in  the  world;  but  I must 
be  fair,  and  say  that  Europe  has  some 
excellences,  too.  If  one  great  merit  can 
be  claimed  above  all  others,  it  is  that  in 
Europe  men  and  women  live  more  inti- 
mately into  the  fields  and  hills  than  in 
America.  The  hills  along  the  Rhine  are 
molded  into  terraces  by  the  hands  and  feet 
of  generations.  And  if  the  American  sight- 
seer, floating  down  the  river  on  the  Konigin 
Victoria,  thinks  the  terraces  spoil  the 
spectacle,  he  should  be  reminded  that  the 
landscape  does  not  exist  for  him,  but  for 
those  who  are  born  into  it,  and  who  live 
and  marry  and  die  there. 


108 


THE  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 


The  American  landscape  is  fit  to  be 
admired.  It  is  ours, — our  patrimony, — our 
best  inheritance,  a greater  treasury  of 
beauty  than  all  the  art  museums  of  Europe 
combined,  and  more  truly  valuable  than 
all  deposits  of  iron,  gold  and  petroleum. 

It  ought  to  be  loved, — not  weakly  and  from 
a distance,  but  intelligently,  intimately, 
and  with  taste  and  discrimination. 


109 


ESSAY  NUMBER  EIGHT 


On  American  Landscap 

Gardening 


Upon  a southward  slope,  that  stretched  away 
Towards  the  sea — long  since  a loving  hand. 
Moved  by  a heart  more  loving  still,  had  planned. 
And  safe-enclosed  against  the  salt  sea  spray, 
A noble  garden.  There — shall  we  not  say ? — 
A loving  pair  walked  in  the  sunshine  bland. 
Breathing  the  perfumes  of  their  fruit  trees,  fanned 
By  breezes  soft,  for  many  a happy  day. 

Robert  Burns  Wilson, 

“The  Old  Garden” 


113 


ON  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 
GARDENING 


0 ARDENS  of  no  mean  sort  flourished 
in  America  almost  from  the  establish- 
ment of  the  first  colonies.  Even 
before  the  Pilgrims  on  the  Massachusetts 
coast  or  the  settlers  at  Jamestown  had 
made  themselves  quite  secure  from  the 
attacks  of  the  Indians,  they  began  to  make 
their  dwellings  homelike  with  such  com- 
forts as  their  hands  could  fashion.  As  soon 
as  the  colonies  became  fixed  and  in  a certain 
degree  prosperous,  taste  in  the  matter  of 
gardens  developed  rapidly.  The  very 
earliest  shipments  of  supplies  from  the  old 
country  included  quantities  of  garden 
seeds,  plants  and  fruit  trees.  The  native 
fruits  were  also  early  impressed  into  culti- 
vation. It  is  probable  that  the  native 
grapes  were  grown  by  Governor  Winthrop 
of  the  Massachusetts  Bay  Colony,  who  was 
assessed  a yearly  tax  of  a hogshead  of  wine 
as  early  as  1634.  This  was  from  the  vine- 
yard planted  on  Governor’s  Island  in  Bos- 


115 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


ton  Harbor,  and  granted  to  Governor 
Winthrop  in  1632  for  this  special  purpose. 

About  the  year  1630  the  Reverend 
Francis  Higginson,  writing  back  to  Eng- 
land from  the  settlement  at  Salem,  said  that 
“Our  Governor  (Endicott)  hath  already 
planned  a vineyard  with  great  hopes  of 
increase.  Also  mulberries,  plums,  raspber- 
ries, currants,  chestnuts,  filberts,  walnuts, 
small  nuts,  huckleberries,  haws  of  white 
thorn.” 

Before  the  War  of  Independence  came 
there  were  some  really  notable  gardens  in 
New  England,  and  some  almost  magnificent 
estates  in  Virginia  and  Maryland.  John 
Bartram’s  garden  at  Philadelphia  dates 
back  to  1728,  and  is  still  preserved.  Mount 
Vernon,  the  garden  of  George  Washington, 
was  planted  at  about  the  same  time. 

The  colonial  gardens  were  almost  nec- 
essarily co-ordinated  in  their  development 
with  colonial  architecture,  and  it  is  now 
understood  that  colonial  architecture 
reached  a comparatively  high  artistic  level. 
The  “colonial  style”  in  architecture  has  had 
a great  vogue  in  recent  years,  a favor  which 
has  been  shared  to  some  extent  by  colonial 
gardens  also.  If  the  gardens  have  been 


116 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


copied  and  imitated  less  frequently  than  the 
houses,  the  reason  has  probably  been  that 
the  patterns  were  vaguer  and  harder  to 
follow,  rather  than  that  they  were  artistic- 
ally inferior. 

If  there  was  a special  artistic  weakness 
in  the  schemes  of  colonial  gardens,  it  lay 
in  their  imperfect  adaptation  to  their  envi- 
ronment. They  copied  too  slavishly  the 
styles  of  the  old  country,  and  clung  too 
tenaciously  to  the  plants  which  had  been 
favorites  in  the  gardens  over-seas.  The 
English  farm  and  garden  was  naturally  the 
chief  model,  and  it  is  laughable  to  think 
of  men  planting  peas,  sowing  grass,  or  se- 
lecting varieties  of  fruit  upon  the  strict 
advice  of  gardeners  in  Warwick  or  Kent. 
The  following  quotation  from  one  of  the 
best  early  American  garden  books,  Cob- 
bett’s  “American  Gardener,”  is  characteris- 
tic. Speaking  of  the  cultivation  of  the 
vine,  he  says;  “Vineyards,  as  Tull  observes, 
must  always  be  tilled,  or  they  will  produce 
nothing  of  value.”  He  adds  that  Mr. 
Evelyn  says  that  “when  the  soil,  wherein 
fruit  trees  are  planted,  is  constantly  kept 
in  tillage,  they  grow  up  to  an  orchard  in 
half  the  time  they  would  do  if  the  soil 


117 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


were  not  tilled.”  The  idea  of  quoting  Tull 
and  Evelyn  to  throw  light  on  the  cultiva- 
tion of  vineyards  in  America  is  laughable 
enough,  but  it  was  the  way  books  were 
written  and  gardens  were  made  in  that 
day.  This  extract,  too,  is  from  a book 
published  as  late  as  1819. 

These  little  historical  facts  sum  up 
easily  in  a few  important  conclusions  which 
we  may  state  as  follows:  First,  the  colonists 
had  a taste  for  gardening  which  they  early 
found  time  and  opportunity  to  indulge. 
Second,  for  many  years  they  were  sadly 
handicapped  with  the  experience,  traditions, 
and  prejudice  of  old-world  gardening. 
Third,  we  may  infer  that  this  slavery  to 
European  notions  was  more  effective  in  the 
field  of  taste  than  in  the  field  of  practice. 
The  design  of  the  garden  would  be  more 
influenced  by  it  than  would  the  selection, 
planting  and  cultivation  of  the  plants 
themselves. 

There  are  thus  emphatic  considerations 
to  show  why  the  first  civilized  Americans 
did  not  promptly  develop  a distinctive  style 
of  gardening  on  the  continent  of  North 
America.  There  are  many  other  reasons, 
indeed;  and  chiefly  the  broad  fact  that  the 


118 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


production  of  a characteristic  and  indi- 
genous style  in  literature,  art  or  gardening 
is  the  function  of  a mature  and  fully  accli- 
matized civilization,  something  which  it  has 
taken  two  centuries  to  establish  in  America, 
and  which,  in  fact,  is  not  yet  fully  ripened. 
It  is  even  now  a question  whether  we  have 
attained  to  a national  character  in  litera- 
ture; and  landscape  gardening  certainly  lies 
beyond  letters  in  this  respect. 

But  lest  all  these  big  reasons  may  make 
it  seem  absurd  for  us  to  look  for  anything 
American  in  landscape  architecture,  it  may 
be  noted  that  there  are  some  very  power- 
ful influences  at  work  on  the  other  side. 

The  greatest  of  these  are  soil,  climate  and 
the  native  flora.  The  methods  of  managing 
the  land  which  succeed  in  England  do  not 
succeed  in  America.  The  difference  in 
climate  is  very  much  more  important.  An 
English  garden  can  not  grow  in  America 
because  the  climate  will  not  allow  it;  and 
the  meteorological  prohibition  is  still  more 
insuperable  against  the  French  or  the 
Italian  garden.  But  the  greatest  influence 
at  work  upon  the  gardening  of  the  new 
world, — or  what  should  have  been  always 
the  greatest  influence, — is  the  native  flora. 


119 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Here  the  Pilgrims  found  a continent  with 
a store  of  noble  and  magnificent  trees  in- 
comparable in  all  the  world.  Here  were 
new  grasses  in  the  meadows,  thousands  of 
new  shrubs,  flowering  plants  and  fruits  on 
plains  and  hills  and  mountain  sides. 
Hundreds  on  hundreds  of  these  have  been 
taken  to  Europe  and  naturalized  there  into 
their  park  and  garden  schemes,  showing 
their  attractiveness  and  adaptability  for 
gardening.  In  our  own  country  we  have 
been  inexplicably  slow  to  recognize  the 
unmeasurable  value  of  this  native  wealth 
of  trees  and  fruits  and  flowers.  Only  within 
the  last  twenty-five  years,  in  fact,  has  that 
recognition  gained  practical  headway. 
When  we  think  of  it  now  it  seems  very 
strange  that  American  gardeners  have  not 
always  turned  their  energies  to  the  domes- 
tic plants,  rather  than  to  the  acclimatization 
of  exotics.  But  the  fact  remains,  they 
have  not. 

Landscape  gardening  in  America  began 
to  be  American  with  the  advent  of  Andrew 
Jackson  Downing.  Downing  was  an  artist, 
— a real  and  a great  artist, — a genius ; and, 
being  a genius,  he  conceived  large  things. 
He  gave  the  country  some  new  ideas;  and 


120 


Horace  McFarland 


RHODODENDRONS 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


it  is  a national  misfortune  which  has  not 
been  sufficiently  mourned,  that  he  did  not 
live  to  develop  those  ideas  for  us. 

In  order  to  understand  the  work  of 
Downing,  it  is  necessary  to  know  something 
of  the  circumstances  by  which  he  was 
surrounded,  and  especially  of  the  ideas 
brewing  in  his  time  among  the  landscape 
gardeners  of  England.  Launcelot  Brown 
had  passed  his  vogue,  but  had  left  England 
marked  forever  with  his  anti-geometric 
style.  Brown  had  been  succeeded  by 
Repton,  a greater  artist,  who  had  given  the 
new  style  a conservative  and  reasonable 
cast.  Repton  was  being  followed  by  a mul- 
titude of  honest  plodders,  like  Loudon, 
Kemp  and  Milner,  who  had  learned  the 
tricks,  and  who  practiced  the  new  style  to 
the  best  of  their  abilities  and  opportunities. 
This  was  the  England  visited  by  Downing 
with  childlike  wonder  and  delight,  yet  with 
manlike  insight  and  comprehension.  The 
work  of  Repton  evidently  made  a powerful 
impression  upon  him,  and  the  horticultural 
achievements  of  the  English  gardeners 
equally  filled  him  with  new  ambitions.  In 
America  he  continued  the  story  of  the 
development  of  the  natural  style. 


121 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


If  we  seek  to  set  forth,  in  short,  what 
Downing  contributed  to  American  garden- 
ing, we  may  mention  the  following:  first, 
a high  appreciation  of  the  natural  land- 
scape of  our  country;  second,  the  develop- 
ment of  all  domestic  appointments  with 
reference  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  surround- 
ing landscape;  third,  the  cultivation  of 
gardens  full  of  trees,  shrubs  and  fruits. 

The  last  of  these  contributions  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  the  most  important,  as  it 
was  the  most  characteristic  of  Downing. 
His  ideal  garden  was  one  filled  to  over- 
flowing with  splendid  full-grown  trees, 
with  blooming  shrubs  and  with  fertile  fruit 
trees.  As  we  study  the  plans  now,  criti- 
cizing them  beside  the  style  of  the  present 
day,  we  say  they  were  too  much  crowded, 
and  that  they  lack  breadth  and  dignity. 
But,  at  any  rate,  they  were  gardens  full 
planted  with  luxuriant,  green  growing 
things,  and  not  with  carpentered  and  ma- 
soned furniture.  This  was  a great  innova- 
tion in  its  time, — a real  advance, — and 
Downing’s  ideals  had  a widespread  and 
very  powerful  influence  in  America,  which 
it  would  be  interesting  to  trace  if  we  had 
the  time. 


122 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


Breadth  and  dignity  came  with 
Frederick  Law  Olmsted.  This  man  was 
another  genius,  and  he  fortunately  lived 
long  enough  to  give  the  world  what  was  in 
him.  Olmsted  was  in  every  way  the  proper 
and  timely  successor  of  Downing.  He 
took  the  ideas  of  Downing,  developed  and 
perfected  them,  and  added  to  them  impor- 
tant contributions  of  his  own.  The  love  of 
native  landscape  was  again  emphasized; 
but  though  this  was,  perhaps,  the  great  con- 
trolling principle  of  all  Olmsted’s  work, 
it  was  not  his  discovery.  Downing’s  idea 
of  adapting  the  scheme  of  landscape  gar- 
dening to  the  natural  surroundings  was  so 
much  developed,  extended  and  emphasized 
by  Olmsted  that  it  may  fairly  be  said  that 
it  gained  a new  meaning  in  his  hands.  The 
truly  masterly  manner  in  which  this  one 
thing  was  accomplished, — the  adaptation 
of  the  improvement  scheme  to  the  character 
of  the  tract  in  hand,— -was  the  most  charac- 
teristic quality  of  Olmsted’s  work,  and 
the  one  in  which  his  genius  soared  to  its 
loftiest  flights.  Striking  examples  may  be 
cited  in  Mount  Royal  Park,  Montreal,  and 
the  World’s  Fair  Grounds,  Chicago. 

Olmsted  also  discovered  the  American 


123 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


flora.  In  the  landscape-gardening  way,  he 
was  the  first  to  make  free  and  effective 
use  of  it;  and  this  is  probably  his  most 
truly  original  contribution  to  American 
landscape  art.  Downing  knew  some  of  the 
native  trees,  but  he  cultivated  chiefly  ex- 
otics, especially  in  fruits  and  shrubs. 
Olmsted  boldly  laid  these  all  aside,  and,  on 
occasion,  used  only  the  commonest  and 
meanest  of  the  native  shrubs  and  herbs. 
The  meadow  and  pasture  weeds  became 
the  materials  for  painting  in  his  greatest 
triumphs.  How  important  this  new  idea 
was  may  be  seen  from  the  wide  vogue  it 
has  achieved  among  Olmsted’s  followers. 

Then  came  Mr.  Charles  A.  Platt  and 
Carrere  and  Hastings.  These  men  were 
the  center  of  a group,  each  member  of 
which  added  something  to  the  general 
wealth  of  Italian  gardens  in  America. 

Mr.  Wilson  Eyre,  Jr.,  Mr.  Stanford  White, 
Messrs.  McKim  & Mead,  and  even  the 
younger  Olmsteds,  have  built  gardens  in 
the  Italian  fashion;  and  since  these 
gardens  in  America  depend  rather  on  a 
trick  of  imitating  details  than  on  a genius 
for  originating  new  ideas,  the  work  of  these 
well-trained  men  has  been  about  equally 


124 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


successful.  To  a certain  extent  Mr.  Platt 
has  been  the  leader  and  spokesman  of  this 
group;  and  his  work,  as  much  as  any, 
shows  a real  individuality  and  a masterly 
good  taste. 

The  progress  of  the  Italian  style  in 
America,  however,  has  been  one  great 
unified  movement.  By  some  it  has  been 
regarded  as  a mere  passing  cult,  an  artist’s 
whim,  a temporary  aberration  of  good  taste, 
which  would  soon  give  way  to  saner  things. 
This  view  is  prejudiced,  short-sighted, 
wrong.  The  appearance  of  the  Italian 
style  on  our  soil  at  this  time  was  just  as 
natural,  even  inevitable,  as  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  or  the  Meat  Trust.  It 
has  been  the  outgrowth  of  our  state  of 
civilization.  Given,  on  one  hand,  a group  of 
architects  whose  training  has  been  largely 
European,  and  whose  ideals  have  been 
formed  in  Paris,  Rome  and  Florence,  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  a group  of  excessively 
wealthy  clients  who  are  also  fairly  well 
Europeanized,  and  nothing  under  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  could  prevent  the  introduction 
of  those  methods  which  made  the  gardens 
of  Versailles  and  of  Rome  the  wonder  of 
the  world. 


125 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


The  attempt  to  show  that  the  Italian 
style  of  gardening  is  essentially  bad,  or 
that  it  is  improper  to  this  continent,  even, 
is  quite  as  futile  as  to  try  to  prove  its 
accidental  development  here.  The  test  of 
centuries  has  shown  that  the  style  is  good 
in  itself — very  good.  There  are  many  argu- 
ments of  expediency  and  adaptation  to  be 
made  in  its  favor  anywhere.  As  to  its 
adaptability  to  American  conditions,  that  is 
more  nearly  a debatable  question.  Of 
course,  it  must  be  recognized  that  different 
materials  have  to  be  used  to  build  Italian 
gardens  in  America,  and  various  details 
require  important  alterations.  In  these 
matters  mistakes  are  easy,  and  it  would 
have  been  very  surprising  had  the  begin- 
ners not  made  grave  errors ; but  these  errors 
do  not  affect  the  style  itself,  nor  prove  its 
failure,  any  more  than  the  great  abuses  of 
democracy  in  America  prove  the  failure  of 
our  system  of  government. 

There  is  room  on  this  great  continent 
for  every  style  of  landscape  gardening.  It 
is  worth  while  to  notice,  by  way  of  illus- 
tration, that  a number  of  gardens  are  now 
being  done  in  the  Japanese  style.  Indeed, 
each  and  every  possible  style  may  have 


126 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


a real  suitability  to  some  special  circum- 
stances. If  we  inquire  which  style  is  gen- 
erally best  adapted  to  American  conditions, 
we  are  still  away  from  the  point,  for  adapta- 
tion does  not  go  by  generalities,  but  has 
a meaning  only  in  view  of  concrete  condi- 
tions. Furthermore,  all  foreign  styles,  even 
the  well-reputed  English  style,  must  be 
modified  to  suit  American  requirements, 
or  it  is  as  much  a failure  as  any  other. 

Is  there,  then,  an  American  style  of 
landscape  gardening?  or  will  there  ever  be 
one?  These  questions  cannot  be  answered 
categorically  and  with  great  confidence. 

If  we  have  not  yet  developed  a national 
style  in  music,  painting,  literature  or  archi- 
tecture, it  is  quite  too  much  to  expect  that 
greater  progress  should  have  been  made  in 
landscape  gardening.  Some  things  have, 
indeed,  been  done  in  a truly  American  way. 
We  have  the  park  systems  of  Chicago  and  of 
Hartford;  we  have  many  magnificent  pri- 
vate estates,  like  Biltmore  and  Faulkner 
Farm;  and  we  have  had  the  Exposition  at 
Buffalo.  These  are  only  typical  examples, 
showing  the  art  of  landscape  architecture 
in  a fairly  Americanized  form.  At  least 
we  are  no  longer  dependent  on  exotic  plans, 


127 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


plants  nor  gardeners.  With  just  pride  we 
may  label  the  whole  thing  “Made  in 
America.” 

In  another  chapter  some  attempt  has 
been  made  to  determine  what  are  the  char- 
acteristic features  of  the  indigenous 
American  landscape.  We  found  that  it  is 
built  on  a very  large  scale,  that  it  contains 
a great  variety  of  motifs,  and  that  it  pos- 
sesses a large  number  of  extraordinary  and 
spectacular  features.  All  of  these  things 
are  more  or  less, — and  at  the  bottom  more 
rather  than  less, — related  to  the  present  and 
future  status  of  landscape  art  in  America, 
especially  to  the  large  and  the  characteristic 
expressions  of  it.  Niagara  Falls  must 
eventually  be  the  center  of  a national  park; 
and  the  Big  Trees  are  already  reserved  for 
the  purposes  of  scenery.  Pike’s  Peak,  Mt. 
Washington  and  Mt.  Rainier  will  some  day 
work  into  the  compositions  of  American 
landscape  architects;  and  it  is  not  beyond 
the  reach  of  a reasonable  faith  or  a good 
imagination  to  think  that  the  Great  Prairies 
and  the  Everglades  may  some  time  and 
somewhere  enjoy  the  mastery  of  the  artist’s 
touch.  Then  when  Niagara  Falls  and  the 
Great  Lakes,  Pike’s  Peak,  the  Presidential 


128 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


Range,  the  Arizona  desert,  and  the  Father 
of  Waters  have  received  the  fulness  of 
scenic  development,  when  they  have  been 
made  the  themes  of  great  and  adequate 
park  projects,  when  they  have  been  set  forth 
for  human  enjoyment,  with  all  the  help 
that  art  can  give  to  the  great  achievements 
of  nature,  then  surely  we  shall  have  so 
much  distinctively  American  landscape 
architecture. 

For  years  we  have  made  ourselves 
disagreeable  boasting  about  the  great  un- 
developed resources  of  America,  meaning 
coal  deposits,  iron  ore  and  tillable  land: 
it  has  seldom  occurred  to  us  that  our  unde- 
veloped resources  of  beautiful  landscape  are 
even  as  great,  and  in  their  way  quite  as 
valuable.  If  American  genius  is  proud  of 
its  native  achievements  in  industry,  the  field 
lies  open  for  similar  achievements  in  art. 
The  development  of  these  resources  will  be 
the  special  task  of  American  landscape 
gardening. 

There  is  another  way  of  predicting — 
perhaps  less  accurately — the  trend  of  land- 
scape gardening  for  the  future.  This 
method  consists  in  comparing  landscape 
gardening  with  the  other  arts,  which  have 


129 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


already  developed  much  further  than 
landscape  art,  and  proceeding  on  the  fair 
assumption  that  the  latter  will  follow  some- 
what the  same  course  that  the  former  have 
followed.  The  comparison  may  be  con- 
veniently made  with  painting,  and  for 
simplicity’s  sake  may  be  confined  to  Amer- 
ica, though,  of  course,  the  same  phylogeny 
would  be  found  anywhere  else. 

The  development  of  painting  presents 
three  principal  stages, — not  to  analyze  more 
closely.  These  may  be  recorded  and  sum- 
marily characterized  as  follows: 

1.  The  period  of  the  representation  of 
details.  Smibert,  West  and  Copley  built 
up  their  pictures  by  drawing  in  every  pos- 
sible detail,  seen  or  unseen.  Every  button 
on  a coat  and  every  stitch  on  a cuff  were 
represented  as  fully  and  as  accurately  as  the 
skill  and  means  of  the  artist  would  permit. 

2.  The  period  of  the  representation  of 
material  masses.  The  painters  early  learned 
that  masses  are  more  important  than  de- 
tails, and  so  the  effort  was  turned  from  the 
latter  to  the  former.  The  so-called  school 
of  impressionism,  while  earning  an  unpopu- 
lar reputation  through  extravagances, 
nevertheless  settled  the  thinking  world  in 


130 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


favor  of  the  broad  effects  of  masses  in 
preference  to  a mere  childlike  exhibition  of 
curious  details.  William  Morris  Hunt, 
George  Inness,  John  La  Farge,  and  nearly 
all  the  most  famous  of  modern  American 
painters  exemplify  this  method. 

3.  The  period  of  spiritual  representa- 
tion. It  is  commonly  recognized  to  be  one 
thing  to  picture  the  material  masses  which 
the  eye  sees,  and  quite  another  to  represent 
the  spiritual  significance  of  such  masses  as 
they  appear  to  the  sympathetic  mind.  It 
is  understood  that  some  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful painters  of  the  material  world  are 
quite  unable  to  open  for  us  this  higher 
spiritual  world.  For  it  is  generally  recog- 
nized to  be  a higher  world,  and  to  require 
higher  talents  for  its  communication. 
Whistler,  John  H.  Twachtman  and  Mel- 
chers  may  fairly  be  credited  with  this 
superior  ability. 

Now  let  us  see  what  we  can  find  in  the 
field  of  landscape  architecture  correspond- 
ing to  this  evolution. 

1.  We  have  the  period  of  details  fully 
exemplified  in  Downing  and  his  many  fol- 
lowers. Their  gardening  dealt  almost 
exclusively  with  specimen  plants.  These 


131 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


details  were  to  them  supremely  important. 
It  would  be  easy  to  press  this  story  further 
back,  and  to  show  how  an  earlier  generation 
exhibited  a more  narrowed  and  inartistic 
appreciation  of  details;  but  we  are  not 
making  a complete  analysis  of  this  matter, 
and  we  are  confining  ourselves  arbitrarily 
to  what  has  taken  place  in  America  within 
our  own  knowledge. 

2.  Then  came  Olmsted  and  the  su- 
premacy of  the  mass.  Mass  planting  has 
been  the  watchword  ever  since.  Instead  of 
cultivating  one  Japanese  magnolia,  Olmsted 
planted  a carload  of  roadside  dogwood  in 
a single  group.  While  the  important  prin- 
ciple herein  involved  has  been  very  imper- 
fectly applied,  even  by  Olmsted’s  most 
careful  followers — as  Manning  and  Eliot — it 
has,  nevertheless,  gained  general  recogni- 
tion, at  least  among  professional  landscape 
architects. 

3.  Where,  when,  how  and  from  whom 
shall  we  see  the  spiritual  treatment  of 
landscape?  Music,  literature,  painting  and 
sculpture  are  spiritualized.  Even  utilitarian 
architecture,  in  some  hands,  takes  on  this 
higher  expression.  Shall  we  not  some  day 
see  the  landscape  treated  with  a touch  so 


132 


ON  AMERICAN  GARDENING 


sympathetic,  so  full  of  inspiration  and 
mastery,  that  the  whole  picture  will  stand 
forth  with  a new  meaning?  If  a painted 
landscape  can  suggest  human  passion  or 
divine  mercies,  shall  not  the  landscape 
itself,  with  its  real  hills,  trees,  water  and 
enveloping  atmosphere,  speak  with  yet 
directer  and  more  emphatic  language  of  still 
higher  spiritual  themes? 


133 


ESSAY  NUMBER  NINE 

As  to  the  Field  of  Criticism 


VETERANS 


Mrs.  Frank  C.  Kellogg 


The  charm  of  Normandy  and  the  Rhine  prov- 
inces, as  of  New  England , lies  in  the  broken, 
undulating  surface.  T o whatever  point  of  the 
compass  we  turn  there  is  unity  in  variety.  The 
amphitheater  of  hills  surrounding  Amherst  in  Massa- 
chusetts does  not  grow  monotonous  to  those  who 
look  out  upon  it  from  day  to  day.  The  encircling 
parapets  always  have  a new  tale  to  tell,  a new 
wonder  to  reveal.  No  sun  gilds  them  twice  in  just 
the  same  way,  no  atmosphere  is  repeated  for  any 
two  days,  and  the  mantle  of  green  in  summer, 
and  the  robe  of  white  in  winter,  are  never  the  same 
from  year  to  year. 

J.  C.  Van  Dyke, 
“Nature  for  Its  Own  Sake” 


137 


AS  TO  THE  FIELD  OF  CRITICISM 


E have  taken  a brief  look  at  Amer- 
ican  landscape  gardening.  In  do- 
ing so  we  have  glanced  hurriedly 
at  certain  American  landscape  gardeners  and 
their  works.  We  have  done  nothing  more, 
however,  than  to  catch  a glimpse,  as  from 
the  window  of  a hurrying  express  train,  of  a 
few  of  the  nearest  and  most  outstanding 
facts.  Even  yet  we  have  not  the  long- 
wished  opportunity  for  a detailed  and 
critical  examination  of  materials;  but  we 
must,  at  least,  assume  the  critic’s  point  of 
view.  It  is  a point  of  view  which  we  have 
seldom  (almost  never)  yet  attained,  but  a 
point  from  which  matters  of  large  import 
may  be  seen. 

It  will  be  quite  worth  our  while  to 
consider  for  a moment  what  relation 
criticism  bears  to  art, — the  critic  to  the 
artist.  We  do  this,  of  course,  with  our 
own  special  art  in  mind,  but  we  must  take 
our  instruction  chiefly  from  what  has  been 


139 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


done  in  other  fields.  In  the  field  of  land- 
scape architecture  criticism  is  almost 
unknown;  and  this  fact  presents  unquestion- 
ably the  greatest  handicap  under  which 
the  art  labors.  The  landscape  architects 
themselves  appear  to  be  not  only  blind  to 
this  defect,  but  they  seem  almost  to  present 
an  organized  opposition  to  every  improve- 
ment in  this  direction. 

Consider,  first  of  all,  the  refinement  to 
which  criticism  has  been  brought  in  the 
field  of  literature.  The  authenticated  works 
of  Shakespeare  may  be  printed  in  a com- 
fortable pocket  volume,  but  the  books  about 
Shakespeare  and  his  works  would  fill  all 
the  Carnegie  libraries  between  Hyannis, 
Massachusetts,  and  Walla  Walla,  Washing- 
ton. These  treat  every  conceivable  phase 
of  the  poet’s  life  and  work,  viewed  from 
every  possible  angle,  from  the  Grecian 
structure  of  his  plays  to  the  rambles  with 
Ann  Hathaway  on  Sunday  afternoons  along 
the  shady  field-paths  of  Warwick.  Homer 
has  been  dead  some  thousands  of  years. 
His  nation  is  dead,  and  the  language  in 
which  he  wrote  is  dead;  but  there  meet 
daily  in  many  classrooms  thousands  of  boys 
and  girls  to  discuss  his  qualities  of  style, 


140 


THE  FIELD  OF  CRITICISM 


and  to  wonder  what  made  Helen  act  so. 

A volume  of  criticism  even  greater  in 
proportion  to  the  apparent  need,  washes 
hourly  across  the  meadows  of  current  liter- 
ature. Mr.  William  Dean  Howells  has  writ- 
ten many  books,  but  his  critics  have  written 
five  pages  to  his  one.  The  newspapers  are 
full  of  talk  about  Kipling,  Barry  and  Mr. 
Dooley;  and  if  there  is  a dinner  party  any- 
where in  the  land  where  novels,  plays  and 
biographies  are  not  discussed  the  guests 
must  be  very  stupid,  or  very  interesting, 
for  they  are  very  rare. 

Does  all  this  flood  of  criticism  serve 
any  use?  Does  it  fertilize  the  soil  from 
which  literature  springs?  or  to  change  the 
figure,  is  criticism  a mere  parasitic  growth? 
A good  deal  of  it  does,  indeed,  represent 
a cheap  parasitism,  but  proper  criticism  is 
nevertheless,  the  very  life  of  literature. 
Criticism  is  to  literature  what  the  cultivator, 
the  pruning  knife,  and  the  spray  pump  are 
to  the  apple  orchard.  Apple-trees  will 
grow  without  care,  but  the  wild  pasture 
trees  never  bear  fruit  of  any  value.  It  is 
only  when  the  trees  are  set  in  proper  soil, 
in  orderly  rows,  pruned,  fertilized  and 
cleansed,  and  given  continual  expert  care 


141 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


by  the  horticulturist,  that  they  bear  full 
loads  of  perfect  apples. 

No;  a progressive  literature  without 
constant  criticism  is  an  impossibility.  Most 
productive  writers  recognize  this.  They 
welcome  intelligent  criticism,  even  when 
it  rests  heavily  on  their  own  works.  Some 
writers,  and  all  publishers,  industriously 
cultivate  criticism. 

The  actor  is,  perhaps,  as  obviously 
dependent  on  the  critic  as  is  any  other 
artist.  In  the  first  place,  he  works  with  a 
company  of  fellow  artists  whose  judgments 
he  must  meet  with  some  precision,  in  order 
to  make  his  playing  go  at  all.  Next,  he  is 
usually  supervised  by  a manager  whose  keen 
criticism  is  supplied  with  peculiar  sanc- 
tions. In  the  third  place,  his  acting  must 
pass  under  the  scrutiny  of  the  professional 
critic  who  does  not  hesitate  to  say  in  the 
morning  paper  that  the  whole  business  was 
a shabby  plagiarism  of  Booth  or  DeWolf 
Hopper,  without  ginger,  grace  or  gumption. 
Finally,  the  public,  passing  in  front  of  the 
box  office,  pass  a very  positive  sort  of 
criticism  upon  the  art  of  both  playwright 
and  actor.  It  is  easy  to  point  out  instances 
of  able  actors  who  have  suffered  under  the 


142 


THE  FIELD  OF  CRITICISM 


unjust  strictures  of  any  or  all  these  various 
critics.  It  is  not  so  easy  to  prove,  however, 
that  any  of  them  have  had  their  powers 
permanently  impaired  by  such  misunder- 
standings ; and  it  is  all  but  self-evident  that 
without  this  ordeal  of  criticism  the  art  of 
acting  would  never  rise  above  the  lower 
levels  of  mediocrity. 

In  like  manner,  the  arts  of  painting, 
sculpture  and  music  enjoy  the  stimulus 
and  direction  of  a well-organized  criticism. 
What  would  be  the  value  of  the  annual 
picture  salon  without  criticism?  And  the 
great  music  festivals  are  partly  for  present 
enjoyment,  but  partly,  too,  for  the  sake 
of  future  improvement. 

On  every  hand,  in  every  art  (except  only 
landscape  architecture),  criticism  is  wel- 
comed, and  the  critic  is  recognized  as  filling 
a position  of  legitimate  service.  Not 
every  critic  is  himself  an  artist.  Probably 
the  best  dramatic  critics  are  not  actors,  nor 
the  best  critics  of  pictures  painters,  but  the 
field  offers  attractive  employment  for  high 
talents. 

We  all  allow  that  landscape  gardening 
is  the  youngest  of  the  arts,  but  its  ex- 
ceeding immaturity  is  in  nothing  else  so 


143 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


completely  demonstrable,  as  in  the  almost 
childish  attitude  of  the  rank  and  file  of 
landscape  artists  toward  criticism.  The 
contrast  which  they  offer  when  compared 
with  novelists  and  actors  is  discouraging. 

I have  recently  organized  and  con- 
ducted a somewhat  extensive  correspond- 
ence with  the  landscape  architects  of 
America.  Naturally,  I have  written  most 
freely  to  my  own  acquaintances,  but  I have 
also  written  personal  letters  to  many  others. 
In  this  correspondence  I have  been  as  polite 
as  my  unhopeful  expectations  could  teach 
me  to  be;  and  my  direct  questions  have  been 
as  few  and  as  mild  as  was  consistent 
with  getting  any  information  at  all.  Some 
data  and  some  valuable  expressions  of 
opinion  have,  indeed,  been  secured;  but  the 
big  result  of  the  whole  investigation  is  to 
show  the  very  general  and  hearty  suspicion 
in  which  all  such  inquiries  are  held. 

Some  landscape  gardeners  politely,  but 
firmly,  refuse  to  give  any  information 
regarding  their  own  works  or  anybody 
else’s.  With  rare  exceptions,  information,  if 
given  at  all,  is  given  grudgingly,  as  though 
a favor  had  been  presumptuously  and 
unwarrantably  asked.  This  being  the  atti- 


144 


THE  FIELD  OF  CRITICISM 


tude  toward  the  giving  of  information, 
what  is  to  be  expected  when  these  men 
are  asked  for  an  expression  of  opinion? 

The  majority  of  them  refuse  flatly  to  give 
it.  It  seems  to  be  considered  a crime  to 
say  that  Mr.  Brown’s  design  for  the  public 
park  is  good,  and  Mr.  White’s  design  for 
the  college  campus  inadequate.  Indeed, 
some  of  these  good  men  appear  to  feel  that 
it  is  unprofessional  and  ungentlemanly 
to  think  about  such  things. 

Let  us  understand  now  and  evermore 
that  this  attitude  is  wrong  and  harmful. 
The  right  way  is  to  welcome  and  assist 
criticism.  Well-informed,  intelligent  criti- 
cism will  clear  the  air,  will  set  a standard 
of  taste,  will  foster  a wider  and  better 
appreciation  of  our  gracious  art,  will  tend 
to  the  improvement  of  technique,  will  set 
higher  ideals  before  our  professional 
workers,  and  in  a thousand  ways  will  help 
both  the  makers  and  the  enjoyers  of  land- 
scape pictures. 

In  the  field  of  landscape  architecture 
the  critic  meets  certain  practical  difficulties 
which  do  not  exist  in  other  fields,  or 
which  elsewhere  offer  less  serious  obstacles. 
It  is  quite  possible  to  read  all  the  works 


145 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


of  almost  any  popular  or  classic  writer, 
and  to  know  what  his  entire  output  has 
been.  The  experienced  art  critic  has  seen 
practically  all  the  works  of  the  masters; 
and  before  he  writes  about  Dewing’s  paint- 
ings, or  of  St.  Gaudens’  sculpture,  he  will 
have  seen  a majority  of  the  artist’s  pro- 
ductions. Now  it  is  practically  impossible 
for  any  critic  to  know  the  work  of  any 
landscape  architect  in  this  complete  fashion. 
Mr.  Warren  Manning — to  use  a specific 
example — has  undertaken  over  750  pieces 
of  work  in  his  professional  career.  These 
are  scattered  all  over  the  continent,  from 
coast  to  coast,  and  from  Canada  almost 
to  the  Gulf.  And  the  work  of  every  other 
landscape  architect  is  only  more  or  less 
scattered  and  inaccessible. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Perhaps  it  is  not  even 
the  worst.  Nearly  all  of  this  work  exists 
anonymously.  Alfred  Henry  Lewis  and 
Edith  Wharton  put  their  names  on  their 
books;  and  200,000  copies  of  “Coniston” 
repeat  the  name  of  Winston  Churchill 
200,000  times.  But  when  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted  works  with  equal  skill  and  devo- 
tion to  make  Franklin  Park  a place  of 
beauty  and  of  joy  forever,  there  remains 


146 


THE  FIELD  OF  CRITICISM 


no  sign  nor  mark  to  repeat  his  name  to 
the  thousands  who  thoughtlessly  enjoy 
his  labors.  It  is  well-nigh  impossible  to 
discover  the  existing  works  of  particular 
landscape  architects.  It  would  require  a 
directory  and  a chart  to  do  it;  and  it  seems 
hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  such  a 
directory  has  not  yet  been  compiled. 

In  many  places  where  good  works  of 
landscape  gardening  exist,  it  seems  to  be 
a point  of  professional  etiquette  to  keep 
the  names  of  the  designers  a secret. 

Another  difficulty  lies  in  the  fact  that 
a landscape  gardener’s  picture  is  not 
finished  when  it  leaves  his  hand.  Nearly 
always  the  lapse  of  years  must  be  waited 
for  its  completion.  Sometimes  a generation 
must  pass;  and  it  would  be  hard  in  any 
case  for  the  artist  himself  to  say  just  at 
what  moment  his  masterpiece  gave  the 
fullest  expression  of  his  original  design. 

What  is  even  worse  is  the  positive 
infraction  of  the  design  by  ignorant  or  wil- 
ful meddlers.  A gardener,  a park  superin- 
tendent, a half-baked  engineer,  or  a thrifty 
contractor  executes  the  artist’s  design. 
Sometimes  he  executes  it  to  death.  This 
work  is  often  performed  ignorantly,  often 


147 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


without  sympathy,  sometimes  with  uncon- 
cealed hostility.  How,  then,  shall  we  judge 
the  designer  by  the  result? 

It  is  true  that  artists,  like  other  people, 
must  be  judged  chiefly  by  results;  and 
the  best  landscape  architects  provide  means 
for  overcoming  or  mitigating  these  diffi- 
culties, just  as  they  provide  against  other 
technical  difficulties  in  their  work.  Never- 
theless, under  the  best  of  management 
these  difficulties  exist  in  large  measure, 
and  form  a serious  barrier  to  the  progress 
of  criticism  in  the  field  of  landscape 
gardening  art. 

We  may  here  pass  over  the  fact  that 
criticism  in  the  field  of  landscape  archi- 
tecture has  no  traditions,  no  criteria,  no 
background  of  history.  These  defects  are 
real  and  serious,  but  they  are  not  vital, 
neither  are  they  permanent.  They  belong 
only  to  the  infancy  of  our  art,  and  will 
be  outgrown  in  due  time. 


148 


ESSAY  NUMBER  TEN 

On  American  Landscap 

Gardeners 


In  short,  the  landscape  gardener  s task  is  to 
produce  beautiful  pictures.  Nature  supplies  him 
with  the  materials,  always  giving  him  vitality,  light, 
atmosphere,  color,  and  details,  and  often  lovely  or 
imposing  forms  in  the  conformation  of  the  soil; 
and  she  will  see  to  the  thorough  finishing  of  his 
design.  But  the  design  is  the  main  thing,  and  the 
design  must  be  of  his  own  conceiving. 

Mrs.  Schuyler  Van  Rensselaer, 

“Art  Out-of-Doors” 


151 


ALONG  THE  STREAM 


BEND  OF  THE  RIVER 


ON  AMERICAN  LANDSCAPE 
GARDENERS 


♦WEAVING  in  mind  now  what  has  been 
■I*/  said  on  the  state  of  criticism  in  land- 
scape architecture,  let  us  try  to 
apply  our  principles  briefly  to  the  work  of 
American  landscape  gardeners.  Anything 
which  we  can  do  now  will  be,  of  course, 
only  the  most  meager  and  fragmentary 
beginning.  To  criticise  the  work  of  Down- 
ing, for  example,  one  ought  to  search  out 
carefully  the  few  places  which  he  designed. 
These  places  should  then  be  thoroughly 
examined  to  determine  what  part  of  their 
present  aspect  is  due  to  the  plans  of 
Downing,  and  what  to  the  changes  of  later 
gardeners.  But,  most  of  all,  to  judge 
Andrew  Jackson  Downing  fairly,  it  would 
be  important  to  look  up  the  work  of  those 
immediately  inspired  by  him.  The  connec- 
tion between  Downing  and  Calvert  Vaux 
should  be  studied,  but  more  especially 
should  the  critic  investigate  the  works  of 


153 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Frank  J.  Scott.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say  that  the  present  writer  has  not  done  all 
this  with  reference  to  the  work  of  Down- 
ing, to  say  nothing  of  the  hundreds  of 
able  men  who  have  succeeded  to  his  pro- 
fession in  America.  Once  more,  however, 
the  writer  pleads  the  immeasurable  im- 
portance of  this  kind  of  criticism,  and  the 
necessity  of  making  a beginning  some- 
where. 

In  undertaking  a discussion  of  Ameri- 
can landscape  gardeners,  we  are  forced  to 
traverse,  in  part,  the  same  ground  which 
we  have  already  covered  in  speaking  of 
American  landscape  gardening.  In  this 
case,  however,  our  point  of  view  is  alto- 
gether different.  Then  we  were  tracing  the 
development  of  the  art;  now  we  shall  try 
to  estimate  the  characters  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  men. 

Professor  Bailey  names  Andre  Par- 
mentier  as  the  first  professional  landscape 
gardener  in  America.  However,  the 
naming  of  any  man,  in  advance  of  Down- 
ing, as  the  pioneer  must,  of  course,  be  very 
arbitrary;  and  with  all  due  respect  to  the 
excellent  gardens  and  the  able  gardeners 
of  colonial  days,  we  may  fairly  dismiss 


154 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


them  all  with  the  observation  that  real 
American  landscape  gardening  did  not 
exist  until  about  1850. 

Downing  is  by  all  odds  the  first  of 
American  landscape  gardeners.  He  did 
some  little  work  on  private  places  about 
Newburgh  and  in  Washington  on  the 
grounds  about  the  Capitol,  and  the  Smith- 
sonian Institution.  Very  little,  if  any,  of 
this  work  has  been  preserved.  Downing’s 
ability  as  a student  of  this  art  is  nearly 
always  judged  by  one  piece  of  work, 
namely,  his  book  on  Landscape  Garden- 
ing, with  occasionally  some  slight  addition 
for  the  pleasing  essays  in  the  “Horti- 
culturist.” These  writings,  indeed,  show 
a man  of  great  refinement  of  character, 
a man  of  rather  severely  voluptuous  tastes, 
of  somewhat  aristocratic  temper,  retiring 
and  sensitive,  fond  of  everything  beautiful, 
but  with  a taste  influenced  by  the  spirit  of 
his  time  toward  the  curiosities  of  beauty, 
a man  highly  appreciative  of  the  natural 
landscape,  but  still  more  passionately  fond 
of  trees,  shrubs  and  fruits.  We  must  not 
forget  that  Downing — like  hundreds  of  his 
followers — was  a nurseryman  before  he 
was  a landscape  gardener,  and  this  fact  had 


155 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


a marked  influence,  as  we  may  see,  on  all 
his  work. 

If  we  are  to  form  any  fair  judgment  of 
Downing,  however,  we  must  not  stop  here. 
We  must  rather  draw  our  conclusions 
largely  from  the  disciples  who  followed 
him.  Every  great  artist  or  teacher  leaves 
a group  of  disciples  behind.  These  men 
work  over,  and  put  into  effect,  the  ideas 
of  the  master.  Judged  by  the  number  and 
character  of  his  disciples,  Andrew  Jackson 
Downing’s  name  is  the  most  illustrious  in 
the  entire  history  of  American  agriculture, 
horticulture,  or  landscape  gardening.  He 
has  been  the  model  and  the  beau  ideal  of 
every  pomologist,  fruit  grower  and  nursery- 
man, as  well  as  the  direct  inspiration  of 
almost  every  native  landscape  gardener 
which  our  country  has  produced.  Every 
nurseryman  who  has  grown  trees  and 
shrubs  in  America  during  the  last  fifty 
years  has  had  some  fairly  definite  notions 
of  improving  his  own  grounds,  of  helping 
his  neighbors  to  improve  theirs,  and  of  help- 
ing in  the  beautification  of  public  places. 
His  ideas  of  these  things  have  been  taken 
“en  bloc”  from  Downing.  From  the  ranks 
of  these  nurserymen  have  come  a majority 


156 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


of  our  best  landscape  gardeners;  and  the 
completeness  with  which  they  have  been 
controlled  by  Downing’s  ideas  would  be 
pitiful  had  the  results  been  less  satisfactory 
or  the  leadership  less  worthy.  Other  ideas 
have  recently  begun  to  overlie  those  of 
Downing,  but  his  work  still  exercises  a 
tremendous  influence.  This  influence, 
especially  in  the  recent  past,  has  been  so 
plain,  and  so  easily  traced,  that  we  may 
fairly  allow  it  to  be  the  chief  support  of 
Downing’s  reputation  as  a landscape  artist. 

By  this  same  means,  better  than  any 
other,  can  we  determine  also  what  were 
the  Downing  ideas  of  landscape  gardening. 
For  this  purpose  we  may  select  for  special 
study  Mr.  Frank  J.  Scott,  who  describes 
himself  as  Downing’s  friend  and  pupil. 

In  Scott’s  “Suburban  Home  Grounds’’  are 
found  a considerable  number  of  designs 
of  most  excellent  draftsmanship,  and  a 
large  number  of  engravings  corresponding 
perfectly  with  the  plans.  From  these 
plans  and  pictures  we  may  draw  certain 
definite  conclusions  as  to  Scott’s  work,  and 
these  conclusions  may  fairly  be  carried  over 
to  the  work  of  Downing. 

i.  He  aimed  at  an  informal  or  “natu- 


157 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


ral”  style.  His  main  walks  and  drives 
were  usually  curved,  and  his  trees  were 
not  placed  in  straight  rows,  except  where 
the  circumstances  plainly  demanded  it. 

This  informality,  however,  was  de- 
cidedly restrained, — we  might  even  say 
constrained  and  stiff.  It  fell  far  short  of 
the  free  and  easy  natural  style  of  the 
present  day. 

2.  Trees  were  used  chiefly  as  individ- 
uals. Each  one  was  given  room  for  its 
complete  development.  There  were  few 
groups,  and  no  masses.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  this  principle  has  been  most 
strenuously  preached  by  all  the  disciples  of 
Downing,  though  it  is  now  being  generally 
abandoned. 

3.  Lawns  are  small  and  scrappy,  the 
space  being  taken  up  very  largely  with 
trees  and  flower  beds.  Each  design,  there- 
fore, presents  a somewhat  jumbled 
appearance. 

4.  Trees  of  many  kinds  were  used  in 
nearly  every  place,  and,  as  these  were  all 
treated  as  specimens,  the  whole  assumed 
the  air  of  an  arboretum.  This  arboretum 
scheme  is  highly  characteristic  of  the  dis- 
ciples of  Downing.  These  principles  2,  3 


158 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


and  4 in  the  hands  of  men  of  limited  taste, 
led  directly  to  what  Professor  Bailey  has 
aptly  characterized  as  the  “nursery  style” 
of  landscape  gardening. 

5.  Considerable  numbers  of  fruit  trees 
were  used  on  the  grounds,  being  placed  in 
such  a manner  as  to  become  a part  of  the 
decorative  scheme. 

We  shall  see  in  a moment  that  modern 
taste  has  confirmed  and  extended  Principle 
1.  Numbers  2,  3 and  4 have  been  almost 
reversed,  and  Number  5 has  been  neglected. 
The  older  and  more  conservative  land- 
scape gardeners  of  the  present  moment, 
however,  hold  rather  closely  to  these 
principles  of  Downing  as  here  deduced 
from  the  work  of  Scott. 

Before  leaving  this  discussion  of 
Downing’s  methods  it  is  proper  to  inquire 
their  source.  Downing  did  not  originate 
them,  however  great  his  originality  may 
have  been.  We  may  easily  recall  the  fact 
that  Downing  traveled  in  England,  and 
that  he  most  cordially  admired  the  land- 
scape gardening  which  he  saw  there.  Let 
us  remember  further  that  this  was  the 
time  of  Edward  Kemp;  and  a comparison 
of  the  work  of  these  two  men  will  show 


159 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


that,  though  Downing  was  by  far  the  abler 
man,  the  methods  of  gardening,  and  the 
whole  point  of  view  of  the  two  men  were 
alike  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  The  state 
of  landscape  gardening  in  England  in  that 
day — 1835-1840 — may  be  pictured  with  a 
few  strokes  of  the  pen.  The  extravagances 
of  Brown  and  his  immediate  imitators  had 
been  succeeded  by  the  practical  common 
sense  and  masterful  genius  of  Repton. 

In  the  hands  of  Repton  the  natural  style 
had  been  established  on  a rational  basis, 
and  for  all  future  generations.  Then  had 
followed  the  inevitable  bevy  of  copyists, 
praising  Repton’s  mastery  by  constant 
unimaginative  repetition  of  his  tricks, — 
holding  to  his  methods  without  his  genius, 
— precisely  as  Downing’s  disciples  were  to 
follow  Downing  one  or  two  decades  later. 
Downing  was  influenced  chiefly  by  Repton, 
but  this  influence  came  to  him  largely  at 
second  hand,  even  as  you  and  I began  our 
work  under  the  second-hand  inspiration  of 
the  genius  of  Newburgh. 

Frederick  Law  Olmsted  stands  easily 
as  the  greatest  figure  in  American 
landscape  gardening.  By  many  good 
authorities  he  is  rated  as  the  greatest 


160 


FLOOD-TIDE  AT  DUCK  ISLAND 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


artist  of  any  sort  ever  produced  in  America. 
In  a recent  vote  taken  among  leading 
American  landscape  architects  and  students 
of  the  craft,  Olmsted  was  awarded  the 
primacy  by  a majority  lacking  only  one 
vote  of  unanimity.  There  are,  indeed,  some 
few  persons  who  show  a wish  to  dispraise 
his  work.  These  persons  say  that  he  took 
over  from  another  man  the  design  for 
Central  Park,  that  he  enjoyed  the  credit 
for  a great  deal  of  work  done  by 
Calvert  Vaux,  Ignaz  Pilat  and  others. 
Every  claim  of  this  sort  might  easily  be 
admitted  without  shaking  his  reputation 
in  the  least.  Many  of  his  later  works,  if 
not  all  of  them,  are  greatly  superior  to 
Central  Park;  and  if  his  reputation  over- 
shadowed those  of  the  men  with  whom  he 
was  associated,  it  was  not  because  of  any 
personal  advantage  unfaithfully  taken. 

Olmsted  was  engaged  on  many  works, 
of  which  the  following  are  only  a few: 

Central  Park,  New  York. 

Prospect  Park,  Brooklyn. 

University  of  California,  Berkeley. 

Washington  Park,  Brooklyn. 

South  Park,  Chicago. 

Morningside  Park,  New  York. 


161 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Muddy  Brook  Parkway,  Boston. 

Mount  Royal  Park,  Montreal. 

Capitol  Grounds,  Washington. 

Commonwealth  Avenue,  Boston. 

Belle  Isle  Park,  Detroit. 

Capitol  Grounds,  Albany. 

Franklin  Park,  Boston. 

Charles  River  Embankment,  Boston. 

Parks  of  Buffalo. 

Wood  Island  Park,  Boston. 

Marine  Park,  Boston. 

Lynn  Woods,  Lynn. 

World’s  Fair,  Chicago. 

Of  these,  perhaps  the  best  known  are  the 
World’s  Fair,  at  Chicago  (especially  the 
Wooded  Island  and  Lagoon),  Mount  Royal 
Park,  Montreal,  Biltmore,  N.  C.,  and  the 
railway  station  grounds  of  the  Boston  & 
Albany  Railroad.  If  we  add  to  this  list 
Franklin  Park,  Boston,  and  the  Muddy 
Brook  Parkway,  we  have  a reasonably 
representative  selection  of  his  best  and 
most  characteristic  work. 

However,  in  any  consideration  of 
Olmsted’s  work,  careful  attention  should 
be  given  to  his  written  reports.  Among 
these  should  be  specially  mentioned  his 
report  on  Franklin  Park,  and  his  “Consid- 


162 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


erations  of  the  Justifying  Value  of  a Pub- 
lic Park.”  With  these  various  works  in 
hand  we  may  be  justified  in  a few  generali- 
zations regarding  his  methods  and  their 
results. 

1.  He  revitalized  the  natural  style. 
Brown,  Repton,  Downing  and  all  their 
followers  had  professed  the  natural  style, 
but  the  works  of  Olmsted  were  so  much 
more  truly  like  the  best  of  Nature’s  work, 
that  the  whole  doctrine  of  naturalness  in 
landscape  art  received  a new  meaning  at 
his  hands.  To-day,  at  least  in  America, 
the  natural  style  and  the  Olmstedian  style 
are  synonymous,  while  the  works  of  all 
his  predecessors  would  be  rated  artificial. 

2.  Olmsted  introduced  a new  apprecia- 
tion of  natural  scenery.  Other  men  had 
been  gardeners  or  improvers  on  Nature. 

He  first  taught  us  to  admire  Nature  in 
her  own  dress.  Downing  was,  of  course,  a 
lover  of  natural  landscape,  but  this  element 
of  his  character  was  not  brought  strongly 
forward  in  his  landscape  gardening. 

3.  Adaptation  to  site  and  surroundings 
was  the  keynote  of  Olmsted’s  work,  and 
this  also  amounted  to  a new  discovery  in 
landscape  art.  In  this  direction  Olmsted 


163 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


had  a peculiar  gift  which  is  everywhere 
recognized  as  one  of  his  distinguishing 
characteristics.  It  will  be  readily  seen  that 
this  faculty  was  closely  associated  with 
his  appreciation  of  natural  scenery  men- 
tioned above. 

4.  He  discovered  the  native  flora. 
Though  artistically  less  important  than 
other  contributions  of  Olmsted,  this  was 
the  most  revolutionary  of  his  innovations. 
Downing  was  a collector  of  plants,  with 
a fondness  for  what  was  rare  and  exotic. 
Gardeners  everywhere  were  planting  Japa- 
nese magnolias,  purple  beeches  and  Cam- 
perdown  elms.  Olmsted  turned  boldly,  and 
not  without  violent  opposition,  to  the 
commonest  roadside  shrubs.  He  adopted 
the  outcast  weeds.  Peter  after  his  vision 
could  not  have  been  more  completely  con- 
verted to  what  had  previously  been  thought 
unclean.  Up  to  this  time,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  American  plants  had  been  more 
used  in  Europe  than  here.  With  the 
richest  indigenous  flora  of  any  country  in 
the  world,  we  were  still  planting  the 
species  and  varieties  of  European  nurseries. 
We  may  remark  further  that  this  use  of 
the  native  flora  was  the  one  Olmstedian 


164 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


principle  most  quickly  acclaimed  and 
adopted  by  others.  It  has  had  a tremen- 
dous vogue  in  this  country.  It  is  the  point 
in  which  Olmsted  has  been  most  fully, 
successfully  and  sometimes  slavishly 
imitated. 

5.  The  native  plants  were  used  in 
large  quantities.  Common  dogwood  and 
viburnums  were  put  in  by  carloads.  For 
the  first  time  in  the  history  of  landscape 
art,  plants  were  adequately  massed.  This 
principle  was  not  carried  to  an  extreme,  how- 
ever ; and,  in  fact,  it  has  not  yet  received  the 
development  which  it  merits.  While  it  re- 
ceived less  popular  approval  than  item  4 
above,  its  intrinsic  importance  from  the 
standpoint  of  good  art  is  much  greater. 

6.  Indigenous  plants  were  given  their 
natural  environment.  Much  attention  was 
given  to  the  development  of  this  principle, 
especially  by  some  of  the  followers  of 
Olmsted.  Up  to  this  time,  along  with  the 
preference  for  exotics,  had  gone  the  gar- 
dener’s pride  in  growing  plants  out  of 
their  altitude,  latitude  and  longitude.  The 
Alpine  garden  was  the  gardener’s  pet,  and 
Downing  himself  nursed  his  lonely  fig-trees 
through  the  cold  New  York  winters. 


165 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Items  4,  5 and  6,  though  quite  inde- 
pendent, are  all  closely  related.  They  deal 
with  the  use  of  native  plants  in  a natural 
way.  It  is  rather  odd  that  these  radical 
changes  in  landscape-gardening  methods 
should  have  come  from  a man  who  always 
mourned  his  ignorance  of  plants.  Another 
fact  is  still  more  curious,  viz.,  that  Olmsted 
should  be  generally  criticised  for  his  weak- 
ness as  a plantsman.  And  the  present 
writer  wishes  just  here  to  record  his  most 
emphatic  dissent  from  this  current  criti- 
cism. It  is  one  thing  to  know  the  names 
of  plants,  and  quite  a different  thing  to 
know  the  plants  themselves.  It  is  a still 
greater  accomplishment  to  know  how  to 
use  plants  to  make  pictures.  Every 
botanizing  old  maid,  male  or  female,  knows 
plant  names.  Every  good  nurseryman 
knows  the  plants.  Only  the  artist  and  the 
genius  know  how  to  blend  these  materials 
into  pictures  of  abiding  beauty;  and  here 
is  where  Frederick  Law  Olmsted  qualified. 

7.  Olmsted’s  roads  were  peculiar  and 
characteristic — and  peculiarly  and  charac- 
teristically successful.  A considerable  part 
of  their  success  is  due  to  their  adaptation 
to  the  contour  of  the  land,  and  is  thus 


166 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


related  to  Principle  3 discussed  above. 
Their  striking  individuality  appears  to  be 
largely  the  result  of  their  nodal  treatment, 
more  fully  discussed  below.  As  a third 
characteristic,  they  were  always  laid  on 
natural  lines.  This  means  that  there  are 
no  straight  lines  and  no  mathematical 
curves,  either  in  horizontal  projection  or 
in  profile.  In  this  matter  of  road  design 
Olmsted  has  been  widely  followed,  usually 
without  marked  success. 

8.  Olmsted  appears  to  have  been  the 
first  conspicuously  to  adopt  the  principle 
of  rhythm  in  natural  landscape  composition, 
though  any  artist  composing  freely,  and 
with  a proper  feeling  for  his  work  will 
inevitably  follow  this  method  more  or  less. 
This  method  cannot  be  formulated  in  a 
sentence,  but  it  may  be  explained  most 
simply  in  its  application  to  roads.  We  may 
suppose  that  every  road  (especially  such 
long  “circuit  drives”  as  Olmsted  delighted 
to  make)  may  be  composed  of  a certain 
number  of  nodes,  connected  by  corre- 
sponding internodes.  The  main  features  of 
the  landscape  composition  come  at  the 
nodes.  Here  will  be  the  best  views.  Here 
will  be  the  most  attractive  plantings.  Here 


167 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  road  will  make  its  principal  turn;  and 
at  the  nodes  will  come  the  changes  of 
grade.  For  instance,  there  would  be  a node 
where  the  drive  crosses  a small  stream. 

The  grade  changes  from  a decline  to  an 
incline.  There  is  a promising  curve.  There 
is  a specially  fine  view  of  the  stream. 
There  is  a bridge  to  be  admired.  The 
plantings  along  the  brookside  are  altogether 
different  from  those  on  the  meadow  just 
passed.  Everything  marks  this  for  a node. 
After  enjoying  this  picture  to  our  time’s 
content,  we  take  the  ascent  toward  the 
upland  beyond,  and  after  traversing  a com- 
paratively featureless  internode  we  come 
out  on  the  high  land  above,  where  gradient 
and  curvature  change  once  more,  and 
where  the  far  outlook  blesses  us  with 
emotions  quite  different  from  those  borne 
to  us  on  the  shady  bridge  over  the  brook. 

The  same  method  of  composition 
applies,  almost  necessarily,  to  all  sorts 
of  landscape  work,  especially  to  informal 
undertakings.  Will  we  design  an  informal 
border  of  hardy  herbaceous  plants?  If 
there  is  any  logical  order  at  all  to  the 
composition  we  shall  find  it  dividing  easily 
into  nodes  and  internodes.  Every  row  of 


168 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


street  trees  presents  a well-marked  rhythm 
like  that  of  martial  music. 

It  is  not  to  be  assumed  that  this  prin- 
ciple— or  any  of  these  principles — was 
explicitly  formulated  by  Olmsted  himself. 
Olmsted  was  too  great  an  artist  to  operate 
upon  any  formula.  The  idea  was  first 
pointed  out  to  me  by  my  friend  Mr.  George 
A.  Parker,  who  by  acquaintance  with 
Olmsted,  by  broad  knowledge  of  his  work, 
and  by  deep  sympathy  with  everything 
artistic,  is  peculiarly  justified  in  suggesting 
such  a generalization. 

Calvert  Vaux  was  born  and  trained  in 
London.  He  came  to  America  in  1848, 
and  in  this  country  his  life’s  work  was 
done.  He  was  commonly  considered  by 
his  contemporaries  to  be  the  ablest  land- 
scape architect  in  America,  this  being 
before  Olmsted’s  commanding  genius  was 
recognized.  Vaux  furnished,  in  more  than 
one  sense,  the  connecting  bond  between 
Downing  and  Olmsted.  He  was  first  the 
business  partner  of  the  former,  and  after- 
ward of  the  latter.  The  partnership 
between  Olmsted  and  Vaux  was  in  many 
respects  fortunate.  Olmsted  had  breadth 
of  view,  originality  and  a practical  sympa- 


169 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


thy  for  the  outdoor  world  in  its  largest 
aspects.  Vaux  had  the  technical  skill  of 
the  trained  architect  and  a knowledge  of 
European  practice.  In  the  various  works 
executed  by  this  firm,  as  notably  in  Central 
Park,  many  of  the  most  pleasing  details 
were  of  Vaux’s  suggestion  and  design, 
while  the  unity  of  the  scheme  considered 
all  together  was  due  to  Olmsted’s  broader 
vision.  It  is  an  easy  inference  that,  during 
the  period  of  this  partnership,  Olmsted 
learned  a great  deal  from  Vaux  in  the  way 
of  technical  method  which  stood  him  in 
good  service  in  his  later  work. 

The  work  of  Charles  Eliot  is  easier  to 
judge  than  that  of  any  other  American 
landscape  gardener.  This  is  due  to  various 
reasons, — (i)  to  its  comparative  and 
lamentable  brevity,  (2)  to  its  simplicity 
and  consistency,  and  (3),  most  of  all,  to 
the  completeness  with  which  it  is  set  forth 
in  the  magnificent  memoir  by  his  father. 
We  may  say  briefly  of  his  work  that  it 
follows  the  Olmstedian  methods  already 
outlined,  that  he  showed  a great  fondness 
for  natural  scenery,  superior  perhaps  even 
to  that  of  Olmsted  himself,  and  that  he 
was  a leader  in  America  in  the  projection 


170 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


of  large  improvement  schemes  involving 
wide  districts.  The  Metropolitan  Park 
system  in  the  vicinity  of  Boston  was  the 
first  of  its  kind  in  this  country,  and  is  to 
be  rated  as  Eliot’s  masterpiece. 

The  greatest,  most  significant  and  most 
important  development  of  landscape  archi- 
tecture in  America  in  our  own  day  is 
presented  in  the  work  of  civic  improve- 
ment, as  it  is  now  commonly  called. 
Though  Eliot  is  frequently  named  as  the 
pioneer  in  this  field,  the  work  is  being 
done  now  on  a large  scale,  in  many  places, 
by  many  landscape  architects,  and  with  a 
technical  proficiency  and  success  which 
would  surely  have  surprised  and  delighted 
Eliot.  As  examples  may  be  mentioned  Mr. 
Warren  Manning’s  work  at  Harrisburg; 
Mr.  John  Nolen’s  designs  for  San  Diego, 
Cal.,  and  Roanoke,  Va.,  Mr.  Charles  Mul- 
ford  Robinson’s  plans  for  Honolulu,  and 
the  plans  of  Mr.  F.  L.  Olmsted,  Jr.,  for 
Detroit;  also  the  reports  of  Mr.  Harlan  P. 
Kelsey  on  Columbia  and  Greenville,  S.  C., 
and  especially  the  magnificent  new  plans  for 
Chicago,  by  Mr.  Daniel  H.  Burnham. 

Literary  and  dramatic  criticism  give 
their  best  service  when  applied  to  the  work 


171 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


of  men  still  living.  In  pursuance  of  our 
determination  to  apply  similar  methods  to 
landscape  art,  we  ought  now  to  say  some- 
thing of  the  work  of  contemporary  land- 
scape architects.  The  difficulties  of  such 
an  undertaking  are  only  too  manifest,  and 
have  already  been  enumerated.  From 
recent  and  somewhat  extended  correspond- 
ence with  the  best  judges,  however,  I beg 
permission  to  sketch  a few  general 
observations. 

A considerable  majority  of  these 
correspondents  place  Mr.  Warren  H.  Man- 
ning and  the  Olmsted  Brothers  at  the  top 
of  the  list  of  practising  landscape  archi- 
tects. 

Mr.  Manning,  who  worked  for  some 
time  with  the  elder  Olmsted,  is  mentioned 
by  many  as  the  best  representative  of 
that  master’s  methods.  He  is  particularly 
strong  in  his  knowledge  of  native  flora  over 
a large  part  of  the  continent,  and  in  his 
ability  to  bring  this  flora  into  effective 
use.  His  methods  are  particularly  adapted 
to  large  rural  places,  and  there  is  some 
suggestion  that  on  small  city  places  he  is 
less  successful,  owing  to  this  use  of  too 
broad  a style. 


172 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


The  firm  of  Olmsted  Brothers  is 
generally  praised  for  its  efficient  business 
organization,  making  it  possible  to  turn 
out  a large  amount  of  work  of  uniform 
excellence.  Mr.  John  C.  Olmsted  is  said  to 
be  strong  on  the  organization  and  adminis- 
tration of  parks  and  municipal  projects 
generally.  Mr.  Frederick  Law  Olmsted, 
Jr.,  is  credited  with  unusual  artistic  gifts. 
Mr.  Percival  Gallagher,  a member  of  the 
same  firm,  is  mentioned  by  those  who  know 
him  as  a young  man  of  special  promise. 

Various  accidents  of  circumstance 
have  combined  to  place  Mr.  Charles  A. 
Platt  in  the  nominal  leadership  of  the 
American  exponents  of  the  Italian  style. 
Mr.  Platt  is,  first  of  all,  an  architect  (as, 
in  fact,  are  nearly  all  the  devotees  of  the 
Italian  style),  and  lays  no  claim  to  a 
knowledge  of  gardening.  However,  he  has 
designed  a number  of  small  places  with 
distinguished  success.  The  Larz  Andersen 
Garden  at  Brookline,  Mass.,  is  the  most 
noted  example  of  his  work,  but  some  of 
the  smaller  things  which  he  has  done  at 
Cornish,  N.  H.,  are  said  to  be  even  better. 

Mr.  O.  C.  Simonds,  of  Chicago,  made 
his  reputation  as  designer  and  superintend- 


173 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


ent  of  Graceland  Cemetery.  He  has  since 
then  designed  other  rural  cemeteries,  and 
his  name  will  always  be  especially  asso- 
ciated with  this  sort  of  work.  His  work 
seems  to  be  characterized  by  roads  of 
broad  and  dignified  sweep,  and  by  plantings 
of  large  and  orderly  naturalistic  masses 
conforming  admirably  to  the  contour  of 
the  land  on  which  they  are  placed. 

Mr.  Jens  Jensen,  of  Chicago,  appeals  to 
my  own  judgment  as  one  of  the  ablest  men 
of  the  hour.  He  has  the  advantage  of 
unusual  artistic  and  technical  training,  and 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  best 
European  models.  His  work  is  interesting, 
original,  novel,  breaking  clear  away  from 
the  formulas  now  familiar  in  America, 
though  resembling  more  the  modern  work 
in  Germany.  His  work  on  the  West  Park 
System  in  Chicago  presents  many  notable 
features. 

Many  other  landscape  architects  are 
mentioned  with  praise.  Those  most  fre- 
quently named  by  correspondents  are 
Messrs.  Chas.  N.  Lowrie,  H.  P.  Kelsey, 

Geo.  Kessler,  E.  W.  Bowditch  and 
Frederick  G.  Todd.  But  their  work  is  not 
sufficiently  known  to  the  present  writer, 


174 


ON  LANDSCAPE  GARDENERS 


nor  to  his  correspondents,  who  are  willing 
to  express  any  opinion  of  it,  so  that  it  may 
be  characterized  in  any  manner  at  the 
present  time. 

It  is  generally  recognized  that  a great 
deal  is  done  for  the  art  of  landscape  gar- 
dening by  those  who  are  not  professionally 
engaged  in  designing.  The  park  superin- 
tendents especially  have  much  to  do  with 
the  progress  of  the  art.  In  their  number 
Messrs.  J.  A.  Pettigrew,  of  Boston;  George 
A.  Parker,  of  Hartford,  and  Theodore 
Wirth,  of  Minneapolis,  are  recognized  as 
men  of  eminent  abilities.  Prof.  L.  H. 
Bailey  has  done  much  through  his  writings 
to  popularize  sound  principles  of  good  taste 
in  private  gardening.  In  the  same  way 
much  was  accomplished  through  the  able 
and  courageous  preaching  of  the  late  W.  A. 
Stiles,  of  Prof.  C.  S.  Sargent,  and  that 
group  of  enthusiasts  who  found  a pleasant 
and  inspiring  exchange  for  ten  years  in 
the  weekly  issues  of  “Garden  and  Forest.” 


175 


THE  HILLSIDE 


Mrs.  Frank  C.  Kellogg 


ESSAY  NUMBER  ELEVEN 


On  American  Masterpieces 
of  Landscape  Architecture 


I am  sitting  on  a mossy  log  with  an  open 
book  on  my  £nee.  At  my  feet  a little  spring  puts 
forth  its  trickling  runnel.  The  well  is  clear  and 
strong,  a voice  of  nature  which  says,  "Sound, 
sound,  rise  and  flow  on."  Water  is  not  aware  of 
the  academies  and  the  obsoletes;  possibly  this  is 
why  its  noise  is  so  charming  in  these  cool  places  of 
the  Woods.  Overhead  the  crowded,  dusky  leaves 
shake  with  a sound  of  multitudinous  kissing,  and 
one  trim  wood-thrush  goes  like  a shadow  through 
the  bosket  yonder,  piping  a liquid,  haunting 
phrase,  which  Wavers  between  the  extremes  of  joy 
and  pain.  There  is  just  enough  light  to  read 
Keats  by — the  light  of  neither  sea  nor  land, 
the  soft  crepuscule  of  a thick  forest. 

Maurice  Thompson, 

“My  Winter  Garden” 


179 


ON  AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES  OF 
LANDSCAPE  ARCHITECTURE 


uninitiated  person  hearing  of  mas- 
terpieces  easily  forms  the  idea  that 
there  is  something  complete  and  final 
about  each  one.  The  very  word  “master- 
piece” has  a big,  sonorous  and  conclusive 
sound.  However,  when  the  critic  comes  to 
close  quarters  with  any  of  the  renowned 
works  he  finds  that  they  are  not  without 
defects.  Even  the  most  masterful  of  the 
masterpieces,  in  literature,  music  or  painting, 
is  only  a little  way  in  advance  of  its  com- 
petitors. Or,  to  state  the  matter  differently, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  perfection  or 
finality  in  the  works  of  human  art. 

In  the  field  of  landscape  architecture 
there  are  special  difficulties  which  have  al- 
ready been  hinted  at.  A piece  of  work  may  be 
left  to-day  in  the  very  best  condition  which 
the  landscape  architect’s  skill  can  give  it,  and 
yet  five  years  from  to-day,  through  neglect 
or  abuse,  it  may  be  worthless.  An  artistic 


181 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


effect  once  achieved  in  landscape  gardening 
will  not  stay  fixed.  The  long  time  required 
to  secure  results  in  the  best  sorts  of  land- 
scape work  also  brings  in  difficulties.  The 
situation  becomes  particularly  awkward 
when,  through  the  lapse  of  time,  several 
different  landscape  gardeners  are  employed 
successively  on  the  same  piece  of  work. 
Many  of  the  best  things  that  have  been  done 
have  been  necessarily  managed  in  this  way, 
and  in  such  instances  it  is  a puzzle  to  decide 
whether  one  man  or  another  should  have 
the  praise  for  achievement  or  the  blame  for 
failure. 

Y et,  in  spite  of  difficulties,  it  seems  wise 
and  proper  to  classify  some  works  of  art  as 
masterpieces,  whether  in  literature,  painting 
or  landscape  architecture.  It  is  always  good 
to  recognize  merit.  It  is  always  worth  while 
to  give  large  attention  to  the  best  things. 
Every  masterpiece  becomes  a standard  by 
which  other  work  is  measured.  It  becomes 
an  example  all  workers  may  emulate.  It 
marks  the  goal  toward  which  every  am- 
bitious artist  presses  forward.  As  we  seek 
to  promote  better  work  in  landscape  archi- 
tecture, particularly  by  setting  up  higher 
standards,  we  should  improve  every  oppor- 


182 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


tunity  to  call  attention  to  the  best  works  in 
this  art  also. 

It  will  be  recognized,  of  course,  that  the 
selection  of  any  particular  works  of  art  for 
pre-eminent  recognition  is  a matter  of  per- 
sonal opinion.  If  the  opinion  of  a large 
number  of  well-trained  men  can  be  se- 
cured, and  if  they  agree  to  any  extent, 
such  a consensus  of  opinion  has  a special 
value.  But  we  have  not  gone  so  far  in 
landscape  gardening,  and  it  will  apparently 
be  some  time  before  we  can.  The  opinions 
of  specific  works  which  follow  are  entirely 
my  own  and  must  be  recorded  as  partial 
and  tentative. 

The  comparisons  made  in  such  opinions, 
moreover,  must  not  appear  to  be  invidious. 
Doubtless,  some  excellent  works  of  land- 
scape architecture  have  not  been  mentioned 
in  the  following  list.  In  fact,  it  will  be  easy 
to  find  other  works  which  are  undoubtedly 
better  than  some  of  those  here  mentioned. 
The  list,  in  fact,  has  been  made  up  simply 
with  a view  to  have  it  broadly  represen- 
tative of  American  landscape  art.  It  seems 
to  me  eminently  important  that  my 
students,  as  they  are  being  introduced  to 
the  study  of  landscape  gardening,  should 


183 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


have  set  before  them  a number  of  typical 
works  which,  if  not  strictly  masterpieces, 
are  recognized  as  of  high  merit. 

Some  of  the  masterpieces  which  I have 
included  in  my  list  are  important  on  ac- 
count of  their  historical  significance. 
Circumstances  have  conspired  to  give  them 
special  influence.  This  is  the  case,  for 
instance,  with  Central  Park,  New  York. 
The  park  itself  is  by  no  means  the  best 
one  in  the  country,  and  the  original  design 
is  by  no  means  the  best  work  of  its  author. 
Nevertheless,  the  making  of  Central  Park 
marks  an  epoch  in  American  landscape 
architecture.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the 
great  city  park  systems  which  to-day  supply 
the  most  magnificent  examples  of  the  value 
and  beauty  to  be  achieved  in  the  successful 
practice  of  this  art. 

Number  One.  Therefore,  let  Central 
Park,  New  York  City,  stand  as  the  first 
masterpiece  of  American  landscape  archi- 
tecture. The  idea  of  this  park  was  broached 
by  Andrew  Jackson  Downing,  and  Down- 
ing lived  long  enough  to  see  the  beginning 
of  its  realization.  The  original  design 
was  the  first  important  work  of  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted,  Sr.,  and  it  is  quite  within 


184 


FARM  ROAD  IN  WINTER 


EARTH’S  AWAKENING 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


the  facts  to  say  that  this  piece  of  work 
opened  to  him  his  career  as  a landscape 
gardener.  Whatever  this  opportunity  may 
have  made  of  the  land  between  59th  Street 
and  Croton  Reservoir,  it  made  a world- 
renowned  landscape  architect  of  Olmsted. 
This  in  itself  might  entitle  the  project  to 
rank  as  a masterpiece. 

Yet,  with  all  its  defects,  Central  Park 
has  many  good  qualities.  After  all  deduc- 
tions have  been  made,  it  is  still  a rural 
park.  It  brings  the  important  qualities  and 
some  of  the  sentiment  of  wild  nature  into 
the  center  of  the  most  sophisticated  city  in 
America.  Moreover,  it  is  actually  one  of 
the  most  useful  of  parks.  Probably  more 
people  see  it  in  a year  than  any  other  piece 
of  park  property  in  America, — perhaps  in 
the  world.  For  a large  majority  of  these 
people,  Central  Park  meets  a very  urgent 
need.  It  is  more  than  recreation  to  them, — 
it  is  help  and  even  health  or  life  itself. 

Every  student  of  landscape  architecture 
ought  carefully  to  consider  Central  Park. 
He  ought  to  consider  the  conditions  under 
which  it  has  been  made.  These  conditions 
are  typical,  even  when  most  depressing. 
The  student  ought  to  consider  the  principle 


185 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


on  which  a large  rural  park  was  established 
in  the  center  of  a great  commercial  city. 
He  ought  to  consider  why  curved  roads 
were  built  on  varying  levels,  why  bridle 
paths  were  introduced,  why  open  lawns  and 
sheets  of  water  were  provided,  and  why 
great  irregular  masses  of  trees  were  cul- 
tivated. There  are  many  things  in  Central 
Park  worth  study  besides  the  social 
problems  there  exposed  to  view. 

Number  Two.  The  World’s  Fair 
grounds  at  Chicago  in  1893  presented  a 
picture  which  America  will  never  forget. 
This  was  probably  the  most  influential 
piece  of  landscape  architecture  ever  de- 
veloped on  this  continent.  In  spite  of  its 
short  life,  it  was  viewed  by  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  people  from  all  parts  of  the 
continent,  and  these  were  precisely  the 
people  most  able  to  bear  the  influence  of 
such  work  into  their  own  communities. 
Besides  all  that,  the  country  was  ready  for 
an  artistic  awakening.  America  was 
thoroughly  sick  of  the  disgusting  archi- 
tecture which  had  prevailed  since  the  Civil 
War.  The  country  had  been  undergoing 
an  era  of  despondency,  bordering  on  in- 
sanity, in  every  form  of  practical  art.  Home 


186 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


furnishings,  men’s  and  women’s  dress,  and 
every  other  form  of  every-day  art  had 
sunk  to  the  lowest  possible  level.  The 
country  was  beginning  to  accumulate 
wealth  and  needed  only  a new  leadership 
in  matters  of  taste.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, the  architecture  and  gardening  of 
the  World’s  Fair  grounds  proved  a revela- 
tion to  thousands  of  persons.  These  men 
and  women  went  home  inspired  with  new 
ideas  of  beautiful  things  and  with  a de- 
termination to  make  their  own  homes  more 
orderly  and  artistic,  their  own  grounds 
more  beautiful,  and  to  give  their  home 
towns  and  cities  something  of  the  grandeur 
and  magnificence  of  the  White  City  beside 
Lake  Michigan. 

The  design  in  itself  was  a good  one. 

It  was  well  adapted  to  the  flat  land  on 
which  it  was  built.  It  was  convenient  for 
the  purposes  of  the  Exposition.  It  showed 
what  could  be  done  in  the  massing  and 
harmonization  of  architecture.  It  showed 
how  this  could  be  accomplished  in  such  a 
large  way  as  to  amount  to  landscape 
making.  The  great  Court  of  Honor,  sur- 
rounded by  its  beautiful  white  buildings, 
with  Macmonnies’  fountain  at  one  end  and 


187 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  statue  of  the  Republic  at  the  other,  told 
thousands  of  people  for  the  first  time  in 
their  lives  what  were  the  possibilities  of 
the  architectural  style  of  landscape  art. 

Presently  the  visitor  crossed  a beautiful 
arched  bridge  at  one  side.  Probably  the 
visitor  had  never  seen  a beautiful  bridge 
before,  having  known  only  the  most  vulgar 
iron  truss  work  or  the  shabbiest  wooden 
bridges.  At  the  other  end  of  this  bridge 
he  found  himself  in  a pleasant  wild  garden. 
The  path  ran  through  shady  trees,  it  fol- 
lowed the  rushy  border  of  the  lagoon,  it 
hid  behind  masses  of  shrubbery,  it  took  him 
by  a few  steps  quite  out  of  sight  of  the 
gorgeous  White  City.  He  understood  with 
wonder  that  this  Wooded  Island,  with  all 
its  trees  and  shrubs  and  its  encircling 
lagoon,  had  all  been  lately  made;  and  he 
felt  that  this,  indeed,  was  landscape  garden- 
ing. Thus  the  two  great  styles  of  landscape 
architecture  were  most  emphatically  im- 
pressed upon  the  knowledge  of  the 
American  people  at  the  precise  moment 
when  they  were  most  ready  to  respond. 
Works  of  greater  artistic  merit  will  often 
be  produced  hereafter  in  America,  but 
works  of  greater  influence,  never. 


188 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


The  design  of  the  World’s  Fair 
grounds  was  largely  due  to  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted,  Sr.  Several  other  men  helped. 
Mr.  Daniel  H.  Burnham  was  largely  re- 
sponsible for  the  architecture  and  archi- 
tectural effects  in  the  landscape  ensemble. 
The  result,  as  a whole,  is  most  emphatically 
entitled  to  stand  as  one  of  the  great  master- 
pieces of  American  landscape  architecture. 

Number  Three.  Mount  Royal,  Montreal, 
is  a beautiful  mountain.  It  rises  to  a height 
of  740  feet  from  a broad,  level  plain.  It 
stands  beside  an  incomparable  river  and 
looks  down  on  a busy,  modern,  picturesque 
city.  It  is  a most  unusual  combination. 

As  a piece  of  landscape  gardening,  Mount 
Royal  presents  the  effect  of  a remarkable 
piece  of  natural  scenery  most  effectively 
and  unaccountably  let  alone.  It  was  a 
masterly  conception  of  Frederick  Law  Olm- 
sted, in  the  first  instance,  that  the  place 
should  be  left  in  its  natural  character.  For 
this  plan  he  labored  with  pain  and  disap- 
pointment as  though  he  were  shedding  his 
very  life  blood  for  a result  always  to  be 
withheld.  And  yet,  circumstances  have  co- 
operated to  maintain  his  design.  Or,  if 
his  design  has  not  been  actually  developed. 


189 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


it  has  at  least  not  yet  been  frustrated.  A city 
government,  which  might  easily  have  ruined 
the  aesthetic  value  of  the  whole  magnificent 
mountain,  has  fortunately  let  it  alone. 
There  it  stands.  Upon  its  top  and  slopes 
there  are  still  to  be  found  most  of  the 
native  species  of  trees.  The  drives  and 
paths  wind  along  the  slopes  in  a natural 
and  unconventional  manner.  And  from 
Observation  Point  the  visitor  still  looks  out 
up  the  river  over  the  rapids,  down  the  river 
to  a far,  hazy  horizon,  across  to  the  east 
where  Mount  St.  Hilaire  and  Rougemont  rise 
out  of  the  level,  fertile  plain,  while  down 
below  spreads  the  busy  city.  It  is  the 
most  inspiring  outlook  on  the  continent  of 
North  America.  It  is  the  climax  of  Mount 
Royal  Park. 

Number  Four.  In  Franklin  Park, 
Boston,  Olmsted  seems  to  have  realized 
the  great  opportunity  of  his  life.  Every- 
thing considered,  this  is  perhaps  his  great- 
est work.  He  enjoyed  here,  to  some  extent 
at  least,  what  he  did  not  find  in  Montreal, — 
the  sympathetic  appreciation  and  encour- 
agement of  those  with  whom  he  labored. 
The  native  landscape,  moreover,  while  much 
less  spectacular  than  Mount  Royal,  was  par- 


190 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


ticularly  dear  to  him.  It  was  his  home 
landscape.  It  was  native.  These  were  the 
great  qualities  in  all  landscape  in  his  belief, 
and  these  were  the  qualities  which  he 
wished  to  realize  in  his  best  landscape 
gardening.  Good  fortune  attended  the  en- 
terprise in  another  very  important  respect: 
the  work  was  carried  out  with  reasonable 
fidelity,  with  reasonable  appropriations  of 
money.  There  have  been  some  changes 
from  the  original  design,  and  some  of 
which,  in  my  opinion,  are  not  improve- 
ments; but,  on  the  whole,  Franklin  Park 
comes  as  near  being  a concrete  realization 
of  a landscape  architect’s  ideas  as  can  often 
be  found. 

The  park  is  conveniently  located  for 
one  of  its  size  and  purpose;  it  is  adequate 
in  size;  it  contains  a considerable  diversity 
of  scenery;  it  has  various  sections  well 
suited  to  the  various  purposes  of  such  a 
park;  it  abounds  in  pleasing  pictorial  views 
of  natural  scenery;  and  most  of  all  has  a 
quiet,  restful,  rural  charm  which  is  the 
very  essence  of  Olmsted’s  ideal. 

Number  Five.  I have  already  named 
four  masterpieces,  all  of  them  by  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted,  Sr.  I cannot  conclude  the 


191 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


list,  however,  without  one  more.  The 
Muddy  Brook  Parkway,  extending  from  the 
aristocratic  Back  Bay  section  of  Boston 
out  into  Jamaica  Plain  and  having  its 
terminus  in  Olmsted  Park,  presents  a piece 
of  landscape  gardening  smaller  in  size  and 
less  important  than  any  of  the  undertakings 
already  mentioned.  Nevertheless,  it  is  the 
opinion  of  many  good  critics  that  this  par- 
ticular territory  includes  the  most  success- 
ful work  ever  done  by  the  great  Olmsted. 
Here  are  small  but  almost  perfect  natural- 
istic pictures  succeeding  upon  one  another 
in  a veritable  panorama.  These  pictures 
are  usually  well  composed.  In  fact,  as  a 
piece  of  pictorial  composition,  Muddy  Brook 
Park  has  no  superior  among  American 
works  of  landscape  architecture  done  in 
the  natural  style.  It  should  be  remembered, 
in  weighing  the  value  of  this  result,  that 
such  pictorial  composition  is  precisely 
what  the  natural  style  aims  at,  and  pre- 
cisely what  it  so  frequently  fails  to  accom- 
plish. Those  who  doubt  the  practicability 
of  landscape  composition  in  the  natural 
style  should  visit  Muddy  Brook  Park. 

Number  Six.  Graceland  Cemetery, 
Chicago,  classifies  artistically  with  the 


192 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


works  of  Olmsted.  The  technical  ideas 
which  have  prevailed  are  the  same.  While 
Mr.  O.  C.  Simonds  has  always  been  a 
highly  independent  worker,  and  while  his 
ideas  have  been  developed  largely  by  him- 
self, he  has  still  been  influenced  to  a con- 
siderable extent  by  the  work  of  the  elder 
Olmsted.  Nevertheless,  Graceland  Ceme- 
tery is  peculiarly  his  own  enterprise.  In 
its  present  form,  he  may  be  said  to  have 
established  it.  He  not  only  designed  but 
constructed  it.  There  is  hardly  a piece  of 
work  to  be  found  anywhere  in  the  United 
States  which  is  more  directly  and  com- 
pletely the  personal  product  of  one  man’s 
labors. 

Graceland  Cemetery  presented  a num- 
ber of  technical  difficulties.  The  chief  of 
these  was  the  low,  flat,  swampy  land  on 
which  it  was  built,  and  which  was  totally 
unadapted,  in  its  original  state,  to  the  pur- 
poses for  which  it  was  set  apart.  There 
was  very  little  natural  growth  of  trees  or 
shrubbery  on  the  ground,  and  the  climate 
was  unfavorable  to  such  growth.  These 
difficulties  stood  largely  in  the  way  of  suc- 
cess in  the  natural  style  of  gardening,  the 
style  adopted  for  Graceland. 


193 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Considerable  areas  of  Graceland  to-day 
present  the  stone-yard  and  junk-shop  ap- 
pearance of  the  usual  cemetery.  These 
sections  need  not  be  considered  in  the 
artistic  scheme.  They  are  certainly  not 
part  of  Mr.  Simonds’  design.  The  eastern 
section  of  the  present  cemetery,  however, 
has  been  developed  and  retained  fairly 
within  the  ideal  set  by  the  designer.  It 
has  been  kept  practically  clean  of  archi- 
tecture, stone  masonry  and  other  mortuary 
gewgaws,  and  also  of  canna  beds,  coleus 
borders  and  the  other  usual  vulgarities.  It 
contains  a broad,  quiet  stretch  of  lake, 
heavily  bordered  by  luxuriant  plantings  of 
shrubbery  and  comfortable  trees.  Here  and 
there  are  quiet  stretches  of  unbroken  lawn. 
From  many  points  there  develop  strongly 
composed  pictures  of  quiet,  restful,  rural 
scenery.  The  feeling  of  peace,  quietude 
and  rest  which  ought  to  characterize  a 
cemetery  is  here  realized  as  fully  as  the  art 
of  landscape  gardening  can  realize  it. 

Graceland  Cemetery  has  enjoyed  the 
distinction  of  being  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  landscape  cemeteries  in  America 
and  so  has  exerted  a large  influence  on 
other  projects  of  a similar  sort. 


194 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


Number  Seven.  The  Metropolitan 
Park  Reservation  of  Boston  is  one  of  the 
most  complete  and  satisfactory  to  be  found 
in  America.  In  fact,  it  compares  favorably 
with  work  of  the  same  sort  in  the  best  cities 
of  Europe.  The  project  is  largely  due  to 
one  man,  the  late  Charles  Eliot.  While 
not  very  much  has  been  done  in  the  de- 
velopment of  this  region,  aside  from  making 
some  roads  and  parkways,  the  main  pur- 
pose was  accomplished  when  the  tracts 
were  selected,  surveyed  and  reserved.  To 
a considerable  extent,  therefore,  Eliot  saw 
his  project  completed.  Perhaps  he  saw 
it  as  near  its  actual  completion  as  the  land- 
scape architect  usually  sees  his  work. 

The  value  of  the  Metropolitan  Park 
Reservation  of  Boston,  considered  as  a 
work  of  landscape  architecture,  consists 
first  in  its  realization  of  the  landscape 
needs  of  a great  community.  These  needs 
are  served  for  the  present  and  safeguarded 
for  the  future  in  a large  and  practical  way. 

The  second  merit  of  this  reservation 
system  is  shown  in  the  excellent  judgment 
with  which  the  various  tracts  were  selected. 
The  different  areas  represent  all  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  natural  scenery  available  in 


195 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


eastern  Massachusetts.  A greater  variety 
of  beautiful  landscape  is  presented  than  any 
ordinary  person  would  have  thought  existed 
within  driving  distance  of  Beacon  Hill. 

The  third  point  in  which  Eliot  showed 
his  professional  skill  lay  in  securing  the 
purchase  and  reservation  of  these  areas 
with  a practical  system  for  their  manage- 
ment in  perpetuity.  He  was  able  to  present 
to  the  community,  and  to  various  influential 
sections  of  it,  his  projects  with  unusual 
force  and  persuasiveness.  This  sort  of 
talent  is  sometimes  lacking  among  land- 
scape architects,  but  it  is  a professional 
equipment  of  the  greatest  value. 

Number  Eight.  Keney  Park,  Hartford, 
has  many  of  the  characteristics  of  Franklin 
Park.  It  is  a large  rural  park  designed  in 
the  extreme  of  the  natural  style.  The 
original  layout  was  at  the  hands  of  the  late 
Charles  Eliot.  Subsequent  developments 
have  been  designed  by  Olmsted  Brothers, 
particularly  by  Mr.  John  C.  Olmsted,  while 
much  of  the  present  charm  and  interest  of 
the  park  is  due  to  the  sympathetic  con- 
structive work  of  the  superintendent,  Mr. 
George  A.  Parker.  While  this  park  is, 
therefore,  not  to  be  rated  as  the  product 


196 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


of  any  one  man’s  genius,  it  is,  nevertheless, 
a masterpiece  of  American  landscape 
gardening.  As  such,  it  should  be  studied 
by  everyone  interested  in  the  art. 

Number  Nine.  The  city  of  Chicago 
has  become  famous  in  America  for  its  park 
systems.  It  was  the  first  large  city  in  this 
country  to  reserve  and  organize  a com- 
prehensive system  of  urban  parks.  Its  lead 
in  this  field  is  still  maintained.  There  are 
large  numbers  of  parks  and  playgrounds 
in  all  parts  of  the  city,  and  these  are  every- 
where connected  by  pleasant  drives  and 
broad  boulevards  with  well-designed  park- 
ings. Some  of  the  landscape  architecture 
in  the  various  parks  would  hardly  be  ac- 
cepted as  of  the  masterpiece  order,  yet 
the  system  as  a whole  is  entirely  com- 
mendable. 

During  the  last  few  years  there  has 
been  unusual  activity  in  the  construction 
of  new  parks  and  playgrounds,  and  in  the 
improvement  of  the  old  parks,  in  Chicago. 
Nowhere  else  has  there  been  so  much 
progressive  construction  work.  Not  all  of 
this  work  has  been  good,  but  much  of  it 
has  been  excellent. 

In  that  group  of  parks  administered 


197 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


as  the  West  Park  System,  there  have  been 
accomplished  in  late  years  the  most  strik- 
ing and  successful  examples  of  park  design 
which  it  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  see 
in  America  or  Europe.  This  work  has  been 
done  directly  by  the  superintendent  of  this 
system  of  parks,  Mr.  Jens  Jensen.  In  this 
case,  a man  of  superior  training  and  marked 
artistic  abilities  found  the  means  to  accom- 
plish concrete  results.  Large  enterprises 
were  undertaken.  Old  parks  were  re- 
modeled and  new  ones  built  on  entirely 
new  lines. 

I find  in  this  recent  work  of  Mr.  Jensen 
something  new,  something  difficult  to 
analyze  and  classify.  The  work  is  filled 
with  fresh  ideas  and  breaks  away  freely 
from  the  old  conventions.  One  can  hardly 
say  that  the  work  is  done  in  the  archi- 
tectural style,  nor  that  it  is  done  in  the 
natural  style.  We  have  something  here 
very,  very  different  from  what  has  hitherto 
been  seen  in  either  of  these  styles,  yet  it 
conforms  to  the  best  characters  of  both. 

It  contains  some  of  the  elements  of  Jap- 
anese art,  some  of  the  best  ideas  of  modern 
German  art,  and  some  elements  which  it 
is  hard  to  classify.  To  me  it  seems  to 


198 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


represent  the  principles  of  the  “art  noveau” 
as  applied  to  landscape  architecture.  Many 
of  the  architectural  constructions  and  em- 
bellishments certainly  adopt  this  color. 

Mr.  Jensen  himself  says  that  he  has  re- 
ceived his  chief  inspiration  from  the  Zuni 
Indians  and  from  the  flat,  level  prairies 
with  their  wide,  straight  horizon  lines. 
This  work  of  Mr.  Jensen  certainly  stands 
as  the  most  fresh  and  modern  thing  in 
American  landscape  architecture. 

Number  Ten.  One  of  the  most  char- 
acteristic developments  of  landscape  archi- 
tecture in  America  during  the  last  decade 
has  been  that  of  city  building.  Suddenly 
it  has  come  to  be  recognized  that  a city  is 
not  a fortuitous  aggregation  of  ugly  objects, 
noisome  smells  and  unpleasant  noises.  It 
may  just  as  well  be  an  orderly  arrangement 
of  things  which  are  beautiful  in  themselves, 
and  capable  of  still  greater  beauty  when 
harmoniously  arranged.  Many  enterprises 
in  city  improvement  are  now  under  way, 
and  one  or  two  of  these  should  be  men- 
tioned amongst  American  masterpieces, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  no  one  of  them  has 
yet  reached  completion. 

Unquestionably,  Washington  stands  as 


199 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  best  of  our  American  cities  in  point  of 
design.  This  is  largely  due  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  designed  at  the  start,  instead  of 
being  allowed  merely  to  grow.  The  work 
of  L’Enfant  was  so  well  conceived  in  the 
first  place,  and  so  well  established  at  the 
beginning,  that  it  has  been  proof  against 
meddling  or  neglect.  The  city  of  Wash- 
ington has  always  been  rather  fortunate 
in  all  matters  connected  with  its  general 
design.  Good  architects  have  been  em- 
ployed on  the  public  buildings  (with  a few 
exceptions),  and  good  landscape  architects 
have  given  what  help  they  could  on  public 
grounds.  Andrew  Jackson  Downing  in 
his  day  did  a good  work  in  Washington, 
and  the  White  House  grounds  have  never 
been  debauched  by  bad  and  expensive 
gardening. 

In  recent  years  Washington  has  taken 
up  anew  the  whole  business  of  civic  im- 
provement and  has  employed  in  its  behalf 
many  of  the  best  architects  and  landscape 
gardeners  of  America.  While  it  is  not 
possible  here  to  analyze  this  work,  to  point 
out  its  best  accomplishments  or  its  weak- 
nesses, we  may  well  accept  Washington 
as  the  American  model  of  city  building. 


200 


AMERICAN  MASTERPIECES 


Number  Eleven.  One  other  example 
of  city  design  should  be  given,  and  for  this 
purpose  I choose  Harrisburg,  Pa.  Here 
there  has  been  a comprehensive  design 
prepared  by  one  man,  so  that  Mr.  Warren 
Manning  may  be  credited  with  this  par- 
ticular masterpiece.  Here  a city  of  moder- 
ate size,  favorably  situated  and  enjoying  a 
very  attractive  topography,  has  been 
handled  in  a thoroughly  workmanlike 
manner.  The  designs  provide' for  the 
probable  development  of  the  city  in  the 
future,  providing  not  only  for  its  need 
in  the  way  of  landscape,  but  also  for  many 
practical  conveniences.  These  things  take 
into  account  political  and  social  require- 
ments of  the  city  to  a large  degree  and  pro- 
vide for  them  in  a highly  satisfactory 
manner. 

There  are  a great  many  other  pieces 
of  work  in  America  that  have  been  thor- 
oughly well  done.  It  would  be  pleasant 
to  describe,  analyze  or  criticise  hundreds 
of  them.  This  will  not  be  possible  now,  and 
doubtless  it  is  not  necessary.  However,  I 
have  found  it  worth  while  to  give  my 
students  a list  of  successful  works  of  land- 
scape architecture  for  their  further  study 


201 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


and  consideration,  just  as  a teacher  of 
literature  recommends  a list  of  good  books 
for  his  pupils  to  read  after  their  class- 
room work  is  completed.  In  such  a list  I 
naturally  include  chiefly  those  things  which 
I have  myself  seen  and  enjoyed,  or  of  which 
I have  some  specific  knowledge.  Such  a 
list  must  be  very  partial,  and  even  faulty, 
much  more  so  than  the  list  of  books  recom- 
mended by  the  teacher  of  literature. 

In  such  a list  I would  include  Wash- 
ington Park,  Chicago,  by  Frederick  Law 
Olmsted,  Sr.;  the  recent  parks  and  park- 
ways of  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  by  Mr.  George 
Kessler;  the  new  park  system  at  Seattle, 
Wash.,  by  Olmsted  Brothers;  the  Larz 
Andersen  garden  at  Brookline,  Mass., 
by  Mr.  Charles  A.  Platt;  Maxwell  Court, 
Rockville,  Conn.,  by  Mr.  Platt;  dozens, — 
even  hundreds, — of  good  private  places  by 
Mr.  Wilson  Eyre,  Jr.,  Carrere  & Hastings, 
Mr.  Warren  H.  Manning,  and  others;  and 
among  city  designs  (most  of  them  still 
undeveloped),  Mr.  John  Nolen’s  plans  for 
San  Diego,  Mr.  Charles  Mulford  Robinson’s 
study  of  Jamestown,  N.  Y.,  and  Mr.  H.  P. 
Kelsey’s  plans  for  Columbia,  S.  C. 


202 


ESSAY  NUMBER  TWELVE 


On  the  Improvement  of  the 
Open  Country 


There  is  a beauty  of  the  lily  and  a beauty  of 
the  pine,  a beauty  of  the  mountain  and  a beauty 
of  the  plain,  a beauty  of  wide  outlooks,  of  stately 
high-Walled  amphitheaters,  and  of  gentle  sequestered 
corners.  One  kind  necessarily  excludes  the  other 
kinds;  but  that  does  not  matter  if  each  arrests 
the  eye,  interests  the  mind,  and  appeals  to  the 
imagination  and  the  heart. 

Mrs.  Schuyler  Van  Rensselaer, 

“Art  Out-of-Doors” 


I lead  no  man  to  a dinner-table, 
library,  exchange. 

But  each  man  and  each  woman 
of  you  I lead  upon  a knoll. 

My  left  hand  hooking  you  about 
the  Waist, 

My  right  hand  pointing  to 

landscapes  of  continents  and 
the  public  road. 

Walt  Whitman, 

“Song  of  Myself” 


205 


ON  THE  IMPROVEMENT  OF  THE 
OPEN  COUNTRY 


CIVIC  art  has  won  a place  with  archi- 
tecture and  music.  It  is  a branch 
of  landscape  architecture  dealing 
with  the  making  of  cities.  The  civic  artist 
gives  his  services  to  build  new  cities  on 
proper  lines  or  to  remodel  old  cities.  His 
effort  is  to  secure  the  greatest  amount  of 
beauty  along  with  the  best  sanitary,  moral 
and  business  conditions. 

It  is  a great  mistake  to  limit  the  opera- 
tion of  this  art  to  the  cities.  Civics,  citizen- 
ship, and  civic  art  belong  also  to  the 
villages  and  to  the  open  country. 

Village  improvement,  to  be  sure,  does 
carry  this  art  into  the  villages.  Village 
improvement  is  a movement  which  has  the 
same  ends  in  view,  and  it  comes  to  have 
a different  name  only  because  a different 
organization  is  demanded  to  accomplish 
results  in  smaller  communities. 

But  to-day  I want  to  say  a word  for 


207 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  open  country, — the  regions  that  God 
made.  (You  remember  the  saying  that 
God  made  the  country,  but  man  made  the 
city.)  Neither  civic  artist  nor  rural  im- 
provement society  has  yet  undertaken  to 
bring  the  country  any  help.  So  far  as  I 
know,  the  affair  has  not  been  seriously 
discussed,  and  probably  most  persons 
assume  that  the  country  cannot  be  im- 
proved. 

It  will  appear,  however,  even  on  a 
brief  consideration,  that  the  same  principles 
which  are  being  so  beneficently  worked 
out  in  the  building  of  modern  cities  and 
the  improvement  of  prosperous  towns  will 
apply  with  equal  effect  to  the  enrichment 
of  the  rural  districts.  This  essay  under- 
takes only  to  carry  out  the  comparison. 

In  city  planning  we  hear  a great  deal 
about  civic  centers.  The  villages  and  towns 
are  the  natural,  though  inevitable,  civic 
centers  of  the  country-side;  and  if  village 
improvement  will  make  of  them  all  they 
ought  to  be,  then  rural  improvement  begins 
with  one  problem  solved  and  may  pass  at 
once  to  others. 

Every  country  district  ought  to  be 
reasonably  accessible.  There  should  be 


208 


WHERE  THE  WATERS  MEET 


SUMMER  LANDSCAPE 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


some  way  of  getting  into  it.  I know  a 
New  England  town  of  rare  delights, — one 
of  the  most  beautiful  in  America, — which 
is  almost  unknown  to  the  world  because 
it  is  so  hard  to  get  there.  It  is  truly  harder 
to  reach  than  the  drawing-room  of  the 
most  select  house  on  Beacon  Street,  and 
fewer  there  be  that  find  it.  The  town  has 
no  trolley  and  no  railway,  and  the  three 
wagon  roads  are  so  steep  and  bad  that 
automobiles  and  loads  of  wood  prefer  to 
go  somewhere  else.  It  has  been  understood 
for  years  that  this  town  needs  connection 
with  the  outside  world,  but  the  citizens  are 
poor  and  discouraged  and  the  improvement 
has  not  come. 

Every  country  district,  of  course,  needs 
good  roads.  The  foundation  of  every 
improvement  is  economic;  and  good  roads 
are  the  foundation  of  every  economic  ad- 
vance. The  value  of  good  roads  is  so 
manifest  and  so  universally  accepted  that 
it  is  not  denied  even  by  the  professional 
watchdog  in  town  meetings.  The  man 
who  annually  opposes  the  voting  of  money 
for  schools  and  libraries,  says  nothing 
against  the  improvement  of  roads.  What 
rural  improvement  must  aim  at,  then,  is 


209 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


to  get  the  work  done  more  intelligently 
and  effectively. 

It  is  well  known  that  much  of  the 
money  spent  on  road  improvement  in  the 
country  is  wasted.  This  is  partly  because 
of  neighborhood  jealousies  and  cross-roads 
graft,  but  largely  through  plain,  honest 
ignorance.  It  is  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  every  road  overseer  in  a country  town 
will  be  a graduate  engineer  with  up-to-date 
knowledge  of  Macadam,  Telford  and 
Tarvia.  Those  states,  therefore,  which 
have  county  road  overseers,  or  state  high- 
way commissions  with  good  engineers  at 
public  service,  are  in  the  position  to  get 
the  best  roads.  Every  effort  ought  to  be 
made  to  place  the  services  of  these  experts 
within  reach  of  the  country  neighborhoods 
where  road  appropriations,  always  pitiably 
small,  most  need  to  be  economized. 
Country  roads  ought  to  be  better  built, 
and  any  scheme  which  will  build  them 
better  is  to  be  encouraged. 

Very  many  country  roads  not  only 
need  to  be  rebuilt,  but  they  ought  to  be 
entirely  relocated.  Present  locations  were 
usually  determined  many  years  ago,  at  the 
time  the  country  was  first  settled.  Com- 


210 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


monly  roads  were  placed  along  farm 
boundaries,  not  because  that  was  the  best 
location,  but  because  it  was  customary, 
and  at  the  time  it  made  little  difference. 
There  is  probably  not  a town  in  New  York 
state  or  New  England  in  which  consider- 
able portions  of  the  main  roads  could  not 
be  relocated  to  advantage.  Any  intelligent 
man  could  sit  down  with  a map  of  the  town 
spread  on  the  kitchen  table  and  do  it  after 
supper.  More  direct  routes  could  be  found 
between  important  points,  steep  hills 
avoided,  swamps  and  sandy  stretches  left 
to  one  side. 

In  most  places  there  is  absolutely 
nothing  to  interfere  with  such  radical  and 
far-reaching  improvements.  Land  is  cheap, 
and  condemnation  proceedings  are  easy. 

In  many  instances,  the  owners  would  be 
glad  to  give  the  land. 

Thus  far  I have  spoken  chiefly  of  the 
North  Atlantic  states,  where  land  is  hilly 
and  roads  crooked.  The  complacent 
dwellers  on  the  flat  interior  prairies,  with 
their  checkerboard  section-line  highways, 
often  imagine  that  their  system  is  beyond 
improvement.  This  is  where  they  are  worse 
off  than  the  New  Englander,  who  knows 


211 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


that  his  roads  are  imperfect.  The  most 
thoroughly  inconvenient  system  possible  is 
the  rectangular  layout,  whether  applied 
to  cities  or  to  farming  districts.  City 
builders  have  learned  this  and  are  trying 
to  bring  city  plans  more  to  the  style  of 
Washington  and  Paris. 

It  would  be  a very  great  practical 
benefit  to  McPherson,  Kan.,  for  example, 
if  a good  public  thoroughfare  could  be 
established  running  15  miles  directly 
northwest  from  the  town.  If,  then,  with 
slight  deviations  to  avoid  rough  land,  it 
could  be  continued  straight  to  the  village 
of  Marquette,  so  much  the  better.  A 
similar  diagonal  road  could  be  run  to  the 
southeast  of  the  city,  another  to  the  north- 
east, and  another  to  the  southwest,  with 
equally  good  effect.  For  twenty  years  I 
lived  four  miles  north  and  four  miles  west 
of  McPherson.  We  called  it  eight  miles  to 
town,  and  traveled  the  distance  without 
complaint  three  times  a week.  As  a matter 
of  fact,  we  were  less  than  six  miles  from 
town  as  the  bee  flies  and  were  wasting  five 
miles  of  hard  work  every  trip.  I figure  that 
at  five  miles  a trip,  three  trips  a week,  for 
twenty  years,  I traveled  over  15,000  highly 


212 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


unnecessary  miles,  and  the  thought  of  it 
disgusts  me  so  I would  like  to  go  back 
now  and  sue  the  county  for  damages. 

Just  consider  that  there  are  ioo  busy, 
hard-working  people  to-day  in  that  same 
neighborhood,  going  to  McPherson,  say, 
twice  a week  the  year  round.  There  are 
12,000  miles  of  travel  wasted  every  year 
by  just  those  few  men  and  women  of  that 
neighborhood.  Was  such  economic  waste 
ever  tolerated  in  anything  else?  Yet  there 
are  thousands  and  thousands  of  cities  and 
towns  in  Kansas,  Nebraska,  the  Dakotas, 
Iowa,  Missouri  and  adjoining  states  where 
no  diagonal  highways  exist  or  were  ever 
thought  of.  Surely  rural  improvement 
finds  it  easy  at  this  point  to  propose  some- 
thing better. 

Something  may  properly  be  said  here 
for  roadside  planting.  It  is  not  practicable 
to  have  every  street  lined  with  trees  along 
every  rod  of  its  length.  There  are  stretches 
which,  from  various  considerations,  ought 
to  be  left  open.  But  probably  more  than 
half  the  mileage  in  ordinary  sections  would 
be  improved  if  suitably  planted  with  trees. 
Everyone  knows  how  great  a pleasure  it  is 
to  find  a country  road  shaded  by  over- 


213 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


arching  elms,  or  by  giant  maples,  or  even 
by  upstart  cottonwoods. 

Such  tree  planting  in  rural  districts 
has  always  been  left  to  the  pride  of 
abutting  landowners.  But  the  benefit 
accrues  chiefly  to  the  public,  and  the  public 
ought  to  direct  the  enterprise  and  pay  the 
bills.  The  public  owns  the  streets  and  has 
the  right  to  say  what  shall  grow  in  them. 
Certainly  nothing  better  can  be  grown  than 
useful  and  beautiful  trees. 

In  some  parts  of  Europe  the  public 
routes  are  planted  with  fruit  trees.  The 
usual  custom  is  to  put  the  fruit  up  at 
auction  and  sell  it  on  the  trees  to  the  best 
bidder.  European  travelers  occasionally 
recommend  this  custom  for  use  in  America, 
but  it  is  doubtful  if  it  would  succeed  any- 
where in  this  free  country.  Still,  apple- 
trees  or  cherry-trees  are  sufficiently 
beautiful  and  sufficiently  appropriate  to 
country  roads  to  find  occasional  use  even 
in  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the 
fruit  thief.  Anyone  who  has  seen  the 
highways  of  the  Annapolis  Valley  in  Nova 
Scotia,  with  their  flankings  of  magnificent 
apple-trees,  will  allow  that  they  are  quite 
as  beautiful  as  elms  or  willows. 


214 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


Any  intelligent  layout  of  country  roads 
should  consider  the  different  purposes  to 
which  different  roads  are  put.  One  is  a 
heavy-traffic  thoroughfare  for  loaded 
wagons  and  automobiles.  It  must  have 
direct  lines,  easy  grades,  and  well-made 
roadbeds.  Another  is  a farm  road,  serving 
only  one  or  two  small  back  homesteads. 

It  requires  less  attention.  Still  other  roads 
will  be  chiefly  valuable  because  they  offer 
especially  attractive  scenery.  They  border 
on  some  lake,  follow  some  river,  or  traverse 
a tract  of  fine  woodland. 

Such  scenic  roads  there  are,  or  ought 
to  be,  in  every  country  district,  and  in  any 
fair  estimate  they  are  just  as  valuable  as 
the  traffic  roads.  It  ought  to  be  recognized 
as  a public  duty  to  open  these  up  and  make 
them  popular.  Every  man  knows  that  the 
most  attractive  scenery  in  the  world  clings 
naturally  to  the  country  road.  What  more 
enjoyable  recreation  is  there  than  to  explore 
mile  after  mile  in  a comfortable  buggy,  on 
bicycle  or  in  a good  motor  car? 

Omar  thought  he  could  attain  the 
height  of  earthly  bliss  if  he  had  his  book 
of  verses,  “a  jug  of  wine  and  Thou.” 
Evidently  he  had  never  taken  his  best  girl 


215 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


of  a pleasant  Sunday  afternoon  or  evening 
in  a good  Concord  buggy  with  a safe  horse 
to  drive  mile  after  mile  of  shady  country 
lane.  Such  things  in  the  country  take  the 
place  of  theaters  and  amusement  parks  in 
cities,  and  are  vastly  better.  They  are 
so  much  better  that  their  value  should  be 
frankly  recognized  and  their  beauties  fully 
developed. 

Such  scenery  drives  are  not  alone  for 
youthful  lovers.  If  ever  I grow  so  old  as 
not  to  enjoy  a mile  of  country  road  with 
the  wife  of  my  maturity,  I shall  know  that 
I am  ready  for  the  divorce  courts  and  the 
boneyard. 

The  preservation  of  good  scenery  is 
one  of  the  first  duties  of  rural  improvers. 
Every  locality  has  its  lake,  its  river,  its 
favorite  picnic  ground,  its  high  hill  with 
wide-sweeping  prospect,  its  grove  of  noble 
trees,  its  cave,  its  gorge,  its  “devil’s  garden,” 
or  its  level  intervale.  Let  all  such  be 
cherished  like  a woman’s  honor.  They  are 
beyond  all  price.  They  are  usually  un- 
marked and  uncared  for,  and  are  often 
ignorantly  and  cheaply  sacrificed. 

Sometimes  there  are  historic  trees  to 
be  preserved,  or  historic  spots  to  be  marked. 


216 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


One  of  the  most  fascinating  features  of 
that  delightful  town  of  Concord,  Mass.,  is 
in  its  memorials  of  great  men  and  great 
events. 

The  preservation  of  rural  scenery  will 
certainly  mean  the  suppression  of  the  bill- 
board nuisance.  To  see  a farm  barn  flaring 
with  a black  and  yellow  coat  of  paint,  roof 
and  sides  screeching  the  name  of  some 
talcum  powder  or  baby  poison,  all  in  the 
midst  of  what  should  be  peaceable  and  re- 
spectable rural  scenery,  gives  one  a shock 
like  hearing  a man  swear  in  church.  And 
when  a man  prostitutes  his  barn  to  such 
hire  he  puts  himself  in  the  same  class  with 
the  woman  who  sells  her  character  for  a 
fee.  It  is  probably  easier  to  stop  the 
ravages  of  the  billboard  shyster  in  the 
country  than  in  the  city.  His  profits  are 
relatively  less  and  the  damage  he  does 
relatively  more. 

All  public  places  in  the  country,  such 
as  school  grounds  and  cemeteries,  will,  of 
course,  receive  the  attention  of  the  rural 
improvement  society.  We  all  know  how 
often  they  are  neglected,  and  without 
further  argument  we  are  all  heartily 
ashamed  of  it. 


217 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


In  order  to  make  any  given  tract  of 
open  country  appear  at  its  best  the  in- 
dividual farms  must  look  their  jauntiest. 
Quite  the  most  attractive  thing  in  any 
section  is  to  see  well-kept  farms,  with  neat 
and  comfortable  buildings.  Improvement 
of  this  sort  is  hard  to  accomplish,  but 
substantial  progress  can  be  made  by  efforts 
of  the  right  sort.  The  thing  can  be  recom- 
mended and  talked  up.  Local  pride  can 
be  aroused.  If  such  an  organization  as 
the  grange  takes  hold  of  this  thing  in  a 
naturally  progressive  neighborhood 
wonders  can  be  accomplished.  Some 
country  churches  could  make  a great  hit 
by  laying  aside  their  study  of  foreign 
missions  for  a season  and  preaching  farm 
betterment.  The  foreign  missions  would 
gain  by  it  in  the  end. 

The  Massachusetts  State  Board  of 
Agriculture  offers  prizes  for  the  best-kept 
farms  in  the  state.  Certain  railroads  offer 
prizes  for  the  best-looking  farms  along  their 
lines.  District  and  local  agricultural 
societies  may  well  copy  this  pattern,  and 
set  themselves  in  all  ways  to  arouse  local 
emulation  in  such  matters. 

Rural  improvement  is  altogether  a 


218 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


practicable  enterprise  in  prosperous  and 
progressive  communities.  It  is  coming. 
The  rapidly  developing  love  for  the  country 
and  the  immigration  hither  of  well-to-do 
and  cultured  people  are  bound  to  bring 
results  of  this  kind. 

For  the  most  part  rural  improvement 
will  follow  the  lines  of  village  improve- 
ment, already  well  established.  Local 
societies  will  be  formed  for  the  work,  or 
the  matter  will  be  taken  up  by  societies 
already  in  existence.  Local  granges  are 
the  best  of  all  organizations  for  the  pur- 
pose; but  agricultural  clubs,  woman’s  clubs, 
country  clubs,  even  churches  or  whist  clubs, 
may  serve  if  they  have  the  leaders.  It  is 
usually  better  to  have  such  work  taken  up 
by  some  old  and  well  organized  society, 
even  when  it  seems  a little  out  of  line, 
rather  than  to  waste  energy  in  forming 
some  entirely  new  club. 

Such  local  societies  will  properly  seek 
the  advice  of  competent  landscape  architects 
whenever  possible.  In  a few  cases  the 
services  of  such  experts  can  be  secured  by 
private  employment  and  without  the  inter- 
vention of  a society.  If  I wanted  to  do 
something  for  my  native  town,  I would 


219 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


rather  open  up  such  a system  of  betterments 
as  we  have  here  considered  than  to  leave  a 
five-thousand-dollar  drinking  fountain, 
with  a basin  at  the  foot  for  thirsty  canines, 
and  my  name  cut  half  an  inch  deep  in  the 
marble. 

We  hear  a great  deal  just  now  about 
the  conservation  of  our  natural  resources, 
meaning  coal,  lumber  and  soil  fertility.  I 
know  a dozen  towns  where  the  scenery  is 
worth  more  than  the  agriculture,  and  a 
thousand  where  it  is  worth  more  than  the 
coal  and  lumber.  Take  it  from  the  Pacific 
to  the  Atlantic  and  I am  willing  to  assert 
that  the  scenery  is  worth  more  than  any 
other  item  except  the  fertility  of  the  soil. 
It  is  one  of  our  very  greatest  natural  re- 
sources; and  any  conservation  commission 
which  forgets  it  has  not  yet  waked  up  to 
business. 

In  connection  with  conservation  of 
resources  we  must  have  resource  surveys. 
Let  all  such  surveys  make  careful  inventory 
of  our  landscape  wealth,  and  be  sure  that 
the  items  receive  something  like  a just 
valuation. 

It  would  be  worth  something  if  a state 
like  Massachusetts  or  Colorado  or  Cali- 


220 


ON  THE  OPEN  COUNTRY 


fornia  would  make  a full  and  honest  survey 
of  landscape  assets.  Let  the  work  be  put 
into  the  hands  of  an  expert  landscape 
architect,  just  as  a survey  of  coal  resources 
would  be  assigned  to  a competent  mining 
engineer,  and  the  results  would  be  of  com- 
parable value. 

On  the  basis  of  such  a survey  a 
competent  landscape  architect  could  devise 
improvements  for  the  great  advantage  of 
the  people  of  the  state.  State  reservations 
of  all  sorts  could  be  better  distributed  and 
more  successfully  placed;  the  proper  routes 
for  state  roads  indicated;  public  institutions 
made  accessible;  historic  localities  re- 
claimed and  guarded;  neighboring  towns 
and  municipalities  connected,  and  many 
other  improvements  for  the  convenience 
and  satisfaction  of  all  citizens  suggested 
with  the  means  for  their  accomplishment. 

Finally,  we  must  not  forget  that  all 
civic  improvement  must  go  forward  as  a 
fairly  unified  movement.  Improvement  of 
scenery  must  be  accompanied  by  improve- 
ment of  schools,  libraries  and  churches. 
There  must  be  mental  and  moral  uplift 
along  with  practical  and  aesthetic  advance. 
Citizenship  must  be  better  from  center  to 


221 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


circumference.  And  at  the  basis  of  all  lies 
improvement  in  economic  efficiency.  Men 
must  get  larger  returns  from  their  farms 
before  they  can  support  better  schools,  and 
they  must  have  more  education  before  they 
can  organize  better  churches  or  make 
scenery  reservations.  It  is  a complex  work, 
but  a great  and  beneficent  one,  and  worth 
the  leadership  of  the  best  men  and  women. 


222 


ESSAY  NUMBER  THIRTEEN 

On  the  Ownership  of 

Scenery 


IN  GLOUCESTER  HARBOR 

W m.  T.  Knox 


AURORA  LAKE 


The  beauty  of  Nature  is  a state  resource;  it 
deserves  to  be  conserved , and  one  method  of  doing 
this — the  most  available  and  logical — is  by  the 
establishment  of  state  parks.  It  is  hoped  that  the 
action  of  Massachusetts,  New  York,  and  Wiscon- 
sin, already  so  well  justified  by  results,  will  be 
followed  by  others,  until  every  state  in  the  Union 
has  a comprehensive,  well-balanced  system,  embra- 
cing its  most  valuable  and  characteristic  natural 
scenic  resources,  set  apart  forever  for  the  refreshment 
and  uplifting  of  the  people. 

Mr.  John  Nolen 


225 


ON  THE  OWNERSHIP  OF  SCENERY 


HO  owns  the  earth?  God  made  it 
with  infinite  pains  and  graciously 
gave  it  to  a needy  race,  and  man- 
kind has  been  fighting  over  it  pretty  much 
ever  since  the  beginning.  I think  I dis- 
cern a measurable  difference  of  opinion 
among  professors  of  political  economy  as 
to  how  that  fight  ought  to  be  settled.  Of 
course,  in  the  past  the  ownership  of  the 
earth  has  nearly  always  gone  to  the  strong- 
est; and  though  exceptions  seem  now  to 
be  coming  in,  the  rule  is  far  from  being 
outlawed.  First  the  patriarchs  and  then 
the  leading  tribes  controlled  what  they 
could  by  physical  force;  and  now  the 
nation  with  the  greatest  stand  of  arms 
gets  the  most  land.  Manchuria  hesitates 
between  Russia  and  Japan,  waiting  to  know 
which  has  the  superior  navy.  Between 
individual  men  the  division  follows  the  same 
law:  the  strongest  pioneer  took  the  best 
farm,  while  to-day  the  best  of  the  forests, 
the  coal  lands,  the  rivers  and  the  shores 
belong  to  those  highwaymen  admiringly 


227 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


called  in  our  vernacular,  “captains  of  in- 
dustry.” 

Yet,  even  the  least  thoughtful  person 
can  see  a change  coming.  It  is  plain  that 
the  civilized  peoples  of  the  world  are 
surely  learning  to  think  differently. 
“Public  ownership”  is  a growing  idea.  It 
is  even  popular,  in  spite  of  earnest  (and 
some  honest)  opposition.  To  be  sure, 
public  ownership,  in  the  public  mind,  means 
ownership  of  coal  mines  and  street-car 
lines,  while,  curiously  enough,  the  most 
significant  accomplishments  are  in  the 
public  ownership  of  the  implements  of  edu- 
cation and  the  public  ownership  of  scenery, 
wherein  the  intuitions  of  the  race  and  the 
logic  of  events  have  outrun  the  reasoning 
of  the  professors.  It  often  happens  so. 

If  there  is  anything  in  the  big  world 
that  ought  to  belong  to  the  public,  surely 
it  is  the  landscape.  The  coal  mines  and  the 
oil  fields  have  to  be  exploited;  and  from  a 
certain  point  of  view  the  Standard  Oil 
Company  and  the  Coal  Trust  are  practical 
necessities.  But  the  landscape  can  not  be 
exploited;  it  can  only  be  enjoyed.  It  can 
not  be  consumed,  though  it  sometimes  is 
destroyed. 


228 


OWNERSHIP  OF  SCENERY 


And  so  we  began  blindly  several  years 
ago  with  the  Yellowstone  National  Park, 
and  now  we  have  a certain  claim  on  Niagara 
Falls,  the  Big  Trees,  and  a considerable  list 
of  national  parks.  For,  though  many  of 
these  tracts  have  been  reserved  ostensibly 
for  forestry  purposes,  everyone  knows  that 
their  chief  value  is  their  scenic  beauty. 
Besides  these  national  reserves,  certain  of 
the  states  have  established  similar  invest- 
ments in  scenery.  Massachusetts,  Wis- 
consin and  New  York  have  taken  a praise- 
worthy leadership  in  this  field,  but  other 
states  are  falling  into  line.  No  state  is  so 
poor  and  mean  that  it  has  not  some  tracts 
of  seashore,  lake  shore,  river  or  forest  land 
worth  looking  at;  and  if  it  has  such  land, 
then  the  citizens  of  the  state  have  an 
inalienable  right  (as  the  Declaration  calls 
it)  to  enjoy  that  scenery. 

A few  years  ago  some  public-spirited 
men  in  Massachusetts  waked  up  to  an  un- 
pleasant discovery.  They  found  that  the 
growing  wealth  and  the  increasing  popula- 
tion of  the  state  were  crowding  heavily 
upon  the  ownership  of  land.  Already 
practically  the  entire  shore  line  where  the 
Bay  State  met  the  Atlantic  Ocean  was 


229 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


taken  up  on  private  deeds,  so  that  not  one 
man  in  a thousand  of  the  population  of 
the  state  could  walk  the  seashore  without 
paying  tribute  to  some  friend  or  speculator. 
In  like  manner,  the  woods  were  closed,  the 
hills  pre-empted,  the  brooks  owned  and 
posted  against  trespassers,  the  rivers 
farmed  out,  and  every  other  form  of  land- 
scape taken  over  for  private  use.  Such  a 
condition  is  plainly  intolerable;  and  so 
the  public-spirited  men  who  made  the  dis- 
covery were  able  to  bring  public  sentiment 
to  the  point  of  recovering  to  public  enjoy- 
ment a part  of  the  state’s  patrimony. 

The  results  have  been  gratifying. 

In  a certain  Vermont  town  there  was 
a great  scandal  last  spring.  A leading 
citizen  was  arrested,  put  into  the  town 
calaboose  and  right  soundly  fined.  His 
crime  was  beating  a boy,  not  his  own.  He 
caught  the  boy  trespassing  in  his  garden. 
It  appeared  in  the  general  explanations 
that  the  boy  was  not  there  stealing  straw- 
berries, but  that  he  wanted  to  go  in  swim- 
ming. Now,  there  is  a beautiful  little  river 
running  through  the  town  and  along  the 
foot  of  the  garden  owned  by  the  scandalized 
leading  citizen,  but  there  is  not  an  inch  of 


230 


OWNERSHIP  OF  SCENERY 


the  shore  open  to  the  public.  A boy  who 
would  go  swimming  or  fishing  simply  has 
to  trespass  upon  some  leading  citizen’s 
property, — for,  of  course,  the  leading 
citizens  have  helped  themselves  to  all  the 
beautiful  shores  of  the  placid  little  river. 

It  happened  that  just  a few  weeks  before 
this  untoward  incident  I had  been  employed 
to  make  a landscape  architect’s  report  for 
the  improvement  of  this  particular  village, 
and  in  my  recommendations  I had  vehe- 
mently urged  the  injustice  of  these  private 
holdings.  So  I sympathized  with  the  boy, 
and  felt  that  the  episode  justified  my  plea 
for  a public  river-front  park. 

In  a proper  public  economy  we  need 
national  reservations  of  scenery,  state 
parks,  county  parks,  and,  in  localities  where 
the  town  is  an  important  administrative 
unit,  town  parks  or  public  playgrounds. 
The  movement  for  national  parks  is  well 
under  way,  as  is  also  the  acquisition  and 
development  of  city  parks.  The  two  rela- 
tively neglected  fields  are  those  of  the  state 
parks  and  the  town  or  country  neighbor- 
hood centers. 

State  parks  ought  to  be  urged  in  every 
American  state  and  every  Canadian 


231 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


province,  and  largely  for  the  following 
reasons : 

1.  They  pay  dividends  in  cash.  The 
coming  of  tourists,  campers  and  vacation- 
ists is  a large  source  of  revenue.  The  little 
state  of  New  Hampshire  collects  about 
$10,000,000  annually  from  this  source,  and 
is  yet  so  short-sighted  and  niggardly  as  not 
to  invest  a dollar  in  a state  reservation  in 
the  White  Mountains. 

2.  It  pays  more  in  dividends  of  health. 
All  the  people  of  the  state  need  to  go  camp- 
ing, to  take  vacations  in  the  open,  to  go 
periodically  back  to  nature.  This  oppor- 
tunity they  can  have  only  in  national  or 
state  parks. 

3.  They  may  preserve  places  of  his- 
toric interest. 

4.  They  serve  many  of  the  same  pur- 
poses as  forest  reservations,  preserving  the 
woods,  regulating  stream  flow,  etc. 

5.  Most  of  all  the  state  park  offers  the 
best  means  of  preserving  types  of  native 
landscape,  of  natural  scenery.  Have  we 

a beautiful  mountain?  Let  us  keep  it! 
Have  we  a noble  river?  We  would  like  to 
visit  its  banks.  Have  we  a quiet  lake?  It 
is  ours:  let  us  use  it.  All  these  resources 


232 


THE  RIVER  PATH 

C.  S.  Luitweiler 


M 


SAND  AND  SEA 


OWNERSHIP  OF  SCENERY 


belong  to  the  public,  and  the  public  ought 
to  have  the  use  of  them.  They  are  more 
valuable  than  Carnegie  libraries,  for  books 
can  be  replaced.  They  are  more  beautiful 
than  picture  galleries,  more  elevating  than 
churches,  more  hygienic  than  hospitals,  and 
more  enduring  than  systems  of  philosophy. 

State  parks,  then,  should  be  chosen  and 
delimited,  first,  for  the  types  of  natural 
landscape  beauty  which  they  offer;  second, 
for  their  size,  for  they  ought  to  be  large; 
third,  for  their  availability  for  campers  and 
vacationists.  Such  selections  of  sites  ought 
to  be  made  only  under  the  advice  of  expert 
landscape  architects;  and  the  scheme  of 
management  ought  to  be  designed  by 
similarly  well-trained  men. 

In  most  states  the  title  to  such  parks 
may  rest  directly  in  the  commonwealth,  and 
this  is  the  sentimentally  preferable  way. 

In  other  states  there  can  be  established 
special  boards  of  trustees  or  state  park 
commissions,  as  in  Wisconsin.  In  other 
states  the  titles  to  land  and  the  respon- 
sibility for  management  might  vest  in 
boards  or  institutions  already  established, 
as  in  a state  board  of  forestry  or  of  agri- 
culture, or  in  a state  university. 


233 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


It  is  a curious  and  anomalous  develop- 
ment of  the  present  situation  that  private 
or  semi-private  corporations  should  be 
formed  to  hold  valuable  tracts  of  land  in 
the  public  behalf.  It  is  merely  an  example 
of  private  philanthropy  getting  ahead  of 
public  opinion;  or,  perhaps  it  would  be 
better  to  say,  getting  ahead  of  the  organic 
expression  of  public  opinion,  for  it  is  well 
recognized  that  in  such  matters  our  legis- 
lators are  not  so  well  informed,  so  public 
spirited,  nor  so  progressive  as  the  public 
at  large.  The  National  Trust  in  England 
is  an  example  of  this  sort  of  private  cor- 
poration doing  a most  excellent  work  in 
the  preservation  for  public  use  of  places 
of  beauty  or  historic  interest,  and,  in  doing 
so,  acquiring  land  titles  in  the  name  of 
the  trust.  Examples  in  America  are  the 
Appalachian  Club  and  the  American  Scenic 
and  Historic  Preservation  Society. 

This  method,  of  course,  is  better  than 
none,  but  it  is  objectionable.  George  Wash- 
ington’s old  home  at  Mount  Vernon  is  held 
by  a most  enterprising  and  efficient  society 
of  women;  but  there  is  a wide-spread  and 
growing  feeling  that  the  nation,  or  at 
least  the  state,  ought  to  own  the  place  and 


234 


OWNERSHIP  OF  SCENERY 


open  it  freely  to  all  pilgrims.  People  do 
not  object  to  the  twenty-five  cents  ad- 
mission fee,  but  to  the  principle;  and  in 
all  such  cases  sentiment  is  the  safest  guide. 

Town  parks  and  playgrounds  stand 
on  a somewhat  different  basis,  but  they 
minister  to  an  even  more  urgent  necessity. 
Boys  must  play  ball.  Though  this  dictum 
is  not  found  in  the  Scriptures  nor  in  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  it  be- 
longs in  both.  Also  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  the  Bill  of  Rights,  and  the 
Town  Charter.  Boys  must  and  will  play 
ball;  and  the  village  which  provides  no 
ball  ground  is  worse  than  one  which  has 
no  library  and  no  fire  company.  I know  a 
proud  and  prosperous  town  which  has  made 
a law  that  boys  shall  not  play  ball  in  the 
streets.  At  the  same  time  no  place  is 
offered  where  they  can  play.  The  result  is 
perfectly  certain.  Either  they  play  in  the 
streets  or  they  trespass  on  private  grounds, 
in  either  case  getting  excellent  practice  in 
law-breaking. 

But  playgrounds  are  only  one  thing. 

A second  thing  that  towns  ought  to  do  is 
to  acquire  and  protect  examples  of  the 
best  native  landscape.  Every  village 


235 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


ought  to  have — we  might  fairly  say,  must 
have — a picnic  ground.  Otherwise  the 
young  people  will  spend  their  evenings  in 
the  beer-gardens  and  their  Sundays  in  the 
“amusement  parks.”  Every  village  also 
has  some  spot  of  historic  interest.  Such 
places  ought  to  be  acquired  by  the  towns 
and  maintained  by  the  community,  instead 
of  waiting  for  the  intercession  of  the 
Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  or  of  the 
American  Revolution.  One  can  not  too 
highly  praise  the  work  of  these  societies, 
but  at  the  same  time  one  may  easily  see 
that  these  are  matters  of  much  public  im- 
portance and  should  be  attended  to  by  the 
people  themselves.  It  is  all  very  well  to 
have  someone  act  as  nurse,  guardian  and 
first-of-kin  to  the  public  as  long  as  the 
public  is  too  juvenile  to  take  care  of  itself; 
but  it  is  a fair  wish  to  hope  for  the  day 
when  the  public  can  button  its  own  shoes 
and  walk  alone. 

To  sum  it  up:  the  greatest  of  public 
utilities  is  the  landscape;  and  the  public 
ownership  of  utilities  is  beginning,  where 
it  really  ought  to  begin,  with  the  native 
scenery. 


236 


ESSAY  NUMBER  FOURTEEN 


On  the  Decorative  Use  of 

Landscape 


V 


A breezy  headland  curving  parallel  with  the 
line  of  a fair  horizon;  some  cat-boats  and  luggers 
leaning  against  the  sky;  a smell  of  acacia  whisked 
along  in  broken  puffs;  a wandering  sound  of  un- 
certain quality  passing  between  the  white-capped 
sea  and  the  dusky  Pine  woods  afar;  roses  tossed 
about  on  emerald  sprays;  great  sea-birds  winging 
aloft — and  I in  the  midst  of  this  my  Winter  Garden, 
loafing  under  a yaupon-tree. 

Maurice  Thompson, 

“My  Winter  Garden” 


239 


PINE  TREES,  CAPE  COD 

Frank  A.  Waugh 


A PATH  IN  THE  SNOW 

R.  E.  Schouler 


ON  THE  DECORATIVE  USE  OF 
LANDSCAPE 


^^HERE  has  been  a great  cry  about  art 
for  art’s  sake.  No  phrase  of  its 
kind  has  been  more  widely  bandied. 

It  is  a formula  of  many  meanings,  some 
true,  some  false.  The  falsity  of  one  of  its 
possible  meanings  may  be  widely  read  in 
the  fact  that  almost  every  art  has  achieved 
many  of  its  greatest  triumphs  when  acting 
as  a mere  accessory  to  some  other  art  or 
utility.  Mural  decoration  is  one  of  the 
noblest  branches  of  painting,  and  yet  it 
is  a mere  incident  to  architecture.  Archi- 
tecture itself  is  only  the  beautification  of 
supreme  utilities.  Sculpture  is  largely 
decorative,  and  designed  for  application  to 
architecture  or  gardening.  Even  music  is 
used  largely— one  might  almost  say  chiefly 
— to  embellish  church  services,  dinners  and 
social  functions.  Does  not  landscape  art 
enjoy  similar  opportunities? 

Before  proceeding  to  illustrate  the 
affirmative  answer  to  this  question  it  seems 


241 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


necessary  to  emphasize  the  propriety,  the 
importance,  the  dignity,  the  profound 
worthiness  of  this  subordinate  relationship. 
It  is  like  the  relationship  of  husband  and 
wife:  the  husband  may  be  more  seen  and 
known  by  the  world,  but  the  wife  is  equally 
serviceable  and  necessary.  It  is  like  the 
partnership  of  manhood  and  gentleness: 
the  strong  man  can  be  also  gentle,  and  we 
applaud  the  fortune  of  such  a union  of 
qualities  in  every  true  gentleman. 

The  case  should  be  put  more  forcibly 
than  this.  We  must  all  recognize  that  art 
is  ever  a secondary  matter  in  life,  utility 
having  always  the  prior  claim  to  considera- 
tion. When  the  necessities  of  life  have 
been  satisfied  then  the  soul  can  be  touched 
by  the  pleasures  of  beauty.  Indeed,  it  is 
one  of  the  prime  functions  of  all  art,  and 
one  of  its  greatest  glories  to  invest  the 
hard  utilities  of  the  material  world  with 
aesthetic  and  spiritual  joys.  Let  us  believe, 
therefore,  that  decorative  art  may  be  the 
highest  of  all,  in  its  aims,  in  its  methods 
and  in  the  value  of  its  results. 

Unused  as  we  are  to  bringing  land- 
scape gardening  under  this  point  of  view, 
we  shall  see  at  the  first  glance  that  much 


242 


DECORATIVE  LANDSCAPE 


of  the  best  work  in  this  field  is  of  a dec- 
orative character,  and  is  made  secondary  to 
some  other  art  or  utility.  The  planting  of 
trees  along  a city  street  is  a very  common, 
very  simple  and  very  effective  decorative 
scheme.  It  is  at  the  same  time  one  of  the 
regulation  schemes  of  the  landscape  archi- 
tect. 

As  one  floats  along  down  the  Rhine 
past  Mainz,  Coblenz,  Bonn  and  Koln,  he 
is  profoundly  impressed  with  the  beauty 
of  those  Rhine  cities.  He  is  struck  espe- 
cially with  the  water  fronts,  which  he 
compares  with  the  coal  docks  and  slaughter 
houses  on  our  American  river  fronts, 
greatly  to  the  disadvantage  of  his  patriot- 
ism. It  may  seem  anti-climactic  to  compare 
these  beautifully  terraced  city  fronts,  with 
their  carefully  spaced,  symmetrically  pruned 
trees,  to  the  dado  round  a dining-room; 
but  in  the  simplicity,  directness,  and 
adequacy  of  the  decorative  effect  the  river 
front  and  the  masterpiece  of  the  house 
decorator  are  much  alike. 

Certainly  landscape  gardening  like  this 
is  very  much  unlike  the  free  and  easy 
making  of  informal  pictures  for  their  own 
sakes  as  one  sees  it  in  Franklin  Park, 


243 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Boston;  Prospect  Park,  Brooklyn;  Druid 
Hill  Park,  Baltimore;  Washington  Park, 
Chicago,  or  Mount  Royal  Park,  Montreal. 
And  this  difference  may  be  fairly  charac- 
terized by  calling  the  method  under  dis- 
cussion the  decorative  use  of  landscape 
gardening. 

Landscape  architects  nowadays  are 
studying  whole  cities  or  whole  counties  at 
once.  Mr.  Charles  M.  Robinson  goes  to 
Honolulu  and  makes  plans  for  the  improve- 
ment in  beauty  of  the  whole  city  and  its 
environs;  Mr.  Harlan  P.  Kelsey  does  the 
same  thing  for  Columbia,  S.  C.;  Mr.  Warren 
Manning  goes  to  Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  and  plans 
for  the  harmonious  development  of  a tract 
of  country  fifty  miles  square,  reaching  the 
whole  length  of  Cayuga  Lake.  When 
these  men  make  a beautiful  boulevard  of  a 
useful  city  street,  when  they  make  an  in- 
spiring vista  of  a necessary  canal,  when 
they  bring  skylines,  building  fronts  and 
sign-boards  into  harmonious  alignment, 
then  may  it  reasonably  be  said  that  they 
are  applying  the  principles  of  decorative 
art  to  the  ends  of  their  profession.  They 
are  decorating  cities,  just  as  dressmakers 
decorate  wasted  busts,  or  as  the  printers, 


244 


DECORATIVE  LANDSCAPE 


with  their  little  conventional  figures,  dec- 
orate the  covers  of  my  pamphlet. 

It  is  a common  saying  among  painters 
that  certain  of  their  craft  treat  landscape 
in  a decorative  manner.  Some  painted 
landscapes  are  said  to  have  a decorative 
effect,  by  which  it  is  meant  that  the  prin- 
cipal lines  and  masses  form  an  arrangement 
which  balances  and  which  is  beautiful  in 
itself  without  regard  to  the  concrete  details 
of  the  picture.  L’Hermite’s  “Haymakers” 
is  an  example  which  comes  to  mind  at  the 
moment.  Such  pictures  are  apt  to  be  ex- 
tremely effective.  It  is  still  more  inter- 
esting to  note  that  the  best  artist  pho- 
tographers also  exhibit  “decorative 
landscapes”  in  their  salons.  Mr.  Charles 
Vandervelde,  for  example,  one  of  the  best 
landscape  artists  in  America,  has  a notable 
penchant  for  this  sort  of  thing.  His  camera 
has  depicted  for  our  delight  a number  of 
really  wonderful  pictures  of  this  sort.  The 
significance  of  this  fact  lies  here,  that  Mr. 
Vandervelde’s  pictures  are  taken  direct 
from  Nature.  If  his  photographs  are 
“decorative,”  therefore  it  must  be  that 
Nature  herself  also  has  her  decorative 
aspects.  There  must  be  certain  landscapes 


245 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


which  in  this  proper  sense  are  decorative. 

The  sympathetic  observers  of  land- 
scape have  long  ago  found  this  to  be  true. 
Rather  often  do  they  find  special  views  in 
which  the  trees  and  rocks  offer  such  lines 
and  masses  as  to  form  truly  decorative 
arrangements.  Such  views  are  always 
pleasing,  and,  when  otherwise  proper,  are 
exceedingly  satisfying. 

Let  us  make  a practical  application. 
Susan  and  Benjamin  have  bought  two  lots 
in  a respectable  suburb,  and  with  the  help 
of  the  building  and  loan  association  have 
put  up  a neat  colonial  house.  Mr.  Billings, 
the  architect,  being  Benjamin’s  intimate 
friend,  has  designed  the  house  inside  and 
out  to  express  that  spirit  of  quiet  and 
happy  domesticity  for  which  Susan  and 
Benjamin  are  noted.  Now,  these  delightful 
young  folks  have  an  intelligent  taste  for 
gardening,  and  they  are  ambitious  to  have 
the  thirty  feet  of  lawn  in  front  of  the  house 
and  the  fifty  feet  of  garden  back  of  it 
harmonize  fully  with  the  architecture  and 
express  the  same  spirit.  Everyone  knows, 
of  course,  that  their  sympathetic  work  in 
their  own  garden,  their  personal  choice  of 
each  plant,  and  their  constant  domestic 


246 


DECORATIVE  LANDSCAPE 


association  with  the  whole,  will  make  the 
garden,  of  absolute  necessity,  an  expression 
of  their  own  characters.  It  will  thus 
correspond  with  the  house.  The  garden 
and  the  house  will  be  one  home.  But  the 
lawns  and  shrubberies  and  gardens  on  this 
small  home  lot  will  really  be  so  much  dec- 
oration applied  to  the  house.  The  archi- 
tecture will  predominate.  The  shrubs  will 
be  as  much  subordinate  as  the  wall  paper 
and  picture  molding  in  the  library.  They 
will  be  selected  and  used  in  the  same  spirit 
and  according  to  the  same  principles  of  art. 

It  is  an  every-day  phrase  to  speak  of 
“the  decorative  arts,”  meaning  the  design 
of  fabrics,  wall  papers,  the  ornamentation 
of  house  interiors,  and  the  like.  These  are 
commonly  held  in  light  esteem,  though 
very  erroneously  so.  Their  great  utilitarian 
value  should  give  them  higher  rank,  as  has 
been  suggested  at  the  opening  of  this 
chapter.  But  whether  they  stand  at  the 
head  or  at  the  foot  of  the  list,  it  will  seem 
proper  to  include  a certain  part  of  the  art 
of  landscape  architecture  with  the  other 
“decorative  arts.” 


247 


ESSAY  NUMBER  FIFTEEN 

As  to  Landscape  in 

Literature 


Ye  marshes,  how  candid  and  simple  and  nothing 
withholding  and  free 

Ye  publish  yourselves  to  the  sk y and  offer  your- 
selves to  the  sea! 

T olerant  plains,  that  suffer  the  sea  and  the  rains  and 
the  sun. 

Ye  spread  and  span  like  the  catholic  man  who  has 
mightily  won 

God  out  of  knowledge  and  good  out  of  infinite  pain 

And  sight  out  of  blindness  and  purity  out  of  a 

stain. 

Sidney  Lanier, 

“The  Marshes  of  Glynn” 


Bookish  though  we  may  be,  and  bred  in  a 
library  though  we  may  have  been,  there  is  profit 
in  our  getting  out  of  the  town  which  is  dramatic 
into  the  country  which  is  lyric.  Once  in  a while 
every  bookman  ought  to  subscribe  to  a fresh-air 
fund  for  himself  and  to  seize  the  first  chance  to 
escape  from  those  pulsing  cities  of  ours,  where  even 
the  grass  seems  to  be  living  on  its  nerves.  Views 
afoot  may  be  more  significant  than  even  the  most 
instructive  of  footnotes, — and  Nature  publishes 
her  poetry  in  a legible  text. 

Brander  Matthews, 

“The  Independent” 


251 


AS  TO  LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


HLL  the  fine  arts  are  closely  inter- 
related. They  all  rest  on  the  same 
body  of  principles.  There  are  strik- 
ing similarities  between  painting  and 
music.  Certain  poetry  is  said  to  be  musical, 
and  certain  statuary  poetic.  To  some  ex- 
tent each  art  must  have  inherent  possibili- 
ties of  interpretation  into  the  language  of 
every  other  art.  A more  fertile  fact  is 
that,  seeing  the  various  arts  are  thus  apt 
to  intermingle,  any  one  is  likely  to  have  an 
important  influence  on  every  other  one. 

In  some  cases  these  influences  are  deep  and 
well  marked. 

In  the  present  state  of  gardening  art, 
it  is  too  early  to  say  what  its  influence  has 
been  on  literature,  music  or  dancing.  But, 
as  literature  is  the  most  nearly  universal  of 
all  the  arts,  the  one  nearest  to  all  the 
people,  and  the  one  in  which  many  streams 
of  influence  are  most  easily  traced,  it  may 
be  possible  to  find  that  landscape  has  had 


253 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


some  effect  upon  it;  and  it  may  be  curious 
and  profitable,  too,  to  make  the  analysis. 

Does  landscape  have  an  appreciable 
influence  on  literature?  We  may  say  con- 
fidently that  it  does.  What  is  pastoral 
poetry,  for  example,  except  that  in  which 
the  rural  landscape  has  yielded  the  flavor, 
if  not  the  substance?  But  the  demonstra- 
tion is  much  more  general,  for  as  literature 
takes  its  form  and  color  from  all  the 
materials  out  of  which  it  is  wrought,  and 
as  landscape  is  necessarily  among  these 
materials,  so  must  it  necessarily  have  its 
due  and  proportionate  part  in  the  result. 

Let  us  consider  literature  in  the  mak- 
ing. A good  author,  of  novels,  let  us  say, 
sees  his  characters  living  and  acting  before 
him.  The  scenes  which  he  depicts  are 
vividly  seen  before  his  own  eyes.  The  in- 
fluence of  every  part  of  the  environment 
on  each  important  character  must  be  duly 
considered.  Does  it  make  any  difference, 
therefore,  whether  Algernon  woos  Eloise 
on  the  rolling  prairies  of  Iowa  or  amid  the 
snowy  mountains  of  the  Engadine?  Will 
John  himself,  being  one  and  the  same  man, 
propose  to  Mary  herself,  she  being  once 
and  always  the  same  girl,  amid  the  wintry 


254 


LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


snows  of  the  Adirondacks  in  the  same  terms 
he  would  use  were  the  interesting  episode 
to  occur  in  the  fertile  valley  of  the  Mohawk 
under  a pleasant  summer  sun?  And  will 
Mary  act  just  the  same  when  the  long 
expected  happens?  Obviously  not. 

Suppose  the  whole  scheme  is  one  of 
“human  interest/’  only  with  no  attempt  at 
a stage  setting.  Will  the  characters  still 
behave  the  same  in  Texas  as  in  Pennsyl- 
vania? in  Oklahoma  as  in  Maine?  And 
will  the  difference  of  behavior,  whatever  it 
is,  be  separable  from  the  physical  surround- 
ings of  the  actors;  that  is,  from  the  land- 
scape? Hardly. 

Of  course,  there  are  writers  of  fiction, 
and  of  other  forms  of  literature,  who  pay 
slight  heed  to  the  stage  settings;  we  may 
say,  perhaps,  none  at  all.  But  such 
writers  can  hardly  be  called  the  best 
artists  in  their  proper  fields. 

And,  by  the  way,  what  do  the  literary 
critics  mean  by  “local  color?”  Certainly 
local  color  is  something  which  suggests  the 
locality  wherein  the  action  takes  place. 

And  the  presentation  of  a certain  physical 
locality  is  the  presentation  of  a certain 
landscape.  There  have  been  those  who 


255 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


have  supposed  that  local  color  in  literature 
is  chiefly  dialect,  but  an  extended  considera- 
tion of  the  matter,  such  as  we  now  have  no 
time  for,  will  show  that  they  are  quite 
wrong.  A story  told  in  Irish  brogue,  for 
example,  is  not  localized  thereby.  Leaving 
dialect  out  of  the  question,  it  is  certain  that 
some  good  writers  have  the  power  of 
localizing  their  stories  very  vividly.  After 
reading  certain  good  novels  one  feels 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  scenes  of  the 
events. 

There  are  some  writers  who  undertake, 
with  some  success,  to  interest  their  readers 
in  out-and-out  descriptions  of  the  land- 
scapes in  which  their  actors  are  moving. 
Thomas  Hardy  may  be  named  as  an  ex- 
ample. This  method  is  more  scientific 
and  less  artistic,  but  it  may  fairly  be  called 
one  way  of  introducing  landscape  into 
literature. 

There  are  other  examples  of  work, 
still  more  scientific  and  still  less  artistic,  in 
which  the  writer  aims  only  at  landscape 
description.  Thomas  Wheatley,  in  1770, 
published  a very  proper  and  interesting 
work  entitled,  “Observations  on  Modern 
Gardening,  Illustrated  by  Descriptions.” 


256 


THE  HAND  TO  THE  PLOW 


LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


The  descriptions  were  of  famous  landscapes 
which  he  had  admired.  A good  many  of 
the  books  on  landscape  gardening  and  most 
of  those  on  landscape  come  in  this  scientific 
class,  presenting  landscape  in  the  form  of 
didactic,  descriptive,  measured-and-cut 
pictures. 

Professor  Bailey  dropped  a wise  ob- 
servation when  he  said  that  there  are  two 
interpretations  of  nature  (including  the 
landscape,  of  course) — the  scientific  and 
the  poetic.  The  poetic  is  apt  to  be  the 
better.  In  fact,  it  is  bound  to  be  the  more 
artistic,  because  it  is  expressed  in  aesthetic 
terms;  and  since  the  value  of  landscape  is 
almost  wholly  aesthetic,  such  an  expression 
is  the  only  one  which  can  be  even  measur- 
ably satisfactory. 

In  poetry,  even  in  the  best  poetry, 
the  feeling  for  landscape  varies  between 
limits  almost  infinitely  separated.  If  we 
take  two  popular  prose  poets  whose  work 
is  often  compared — Burroughs  and  Thoreau 
— we  shall  see  this  fact  beautifully  illus- 
trated. Burroughs  is  a naturalist,  and  fills 
our  eyes  with  all  sorts  of  birds  and  cun- 
ning beasts  and  tiny  flowers.  Thoreau  is 
a man  of  landscape  and  weather,  and  he 


257 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


shows  us  Walden  Pond  and  windy 
Wachusett  and  the  bean  fields. 

Again,  this  same  difference  exists  be- 
tween the  metrical  poets.  Holmes  is  the 
naturalist.  “The  Chambered  Nautilus”  is 
a microscopic  study,  and  the  very  apotheosis 
of  scientific  literature.  Riley  is  the  land- 
scapist. “When  the  frost  is  on  the  pump- 
kin and  the  fodder’s  in  the  shock”  gives  us 
a complete  picture  of  the  fields.  Perhaps 
another  example  will  be  admissible,  in 
which  we  may  contrast  Burns  with  Lowell 
and  Bryant.  The  Scotch  bard  turns  up  a 
nest  of  mice  and  a touching  poem  with  one 
stroke  of  his  plowshare.  But  the  poem 
interprets  the  sad  case  of  the  mice  in  terms 
of  human  experience  only.  There  is  no 
breath  of  the  Scottish  landscape  in  it.  On 
the  other  hand,  Lowell,  when  he  tells  of 
the  blackbird’s  song,  and  Bryant,  in  his 
classic  story  of  Robert  of  Lincoln,  show 
us  long  sweeps  of  swamp  and  meadow. 
Moreover,  these  landscapes  are  spread  be- 
fore our  senses  with  all  the  vividness  of  a . 
photograph  and  all  the  feeling  of  a painting. 

This  same  principle  offers  a means  of 
dividing  into  two  groups  the  thousands  of 
books  constituting  the  modern  “nature” 


258 


LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


literature.  Into  one  group  we  could  put 
all  those  that  have  the  outdoor  feeling; 
into  the  other  would  fall  those  descriptive, 
scientific,  technical,  inexpressive  works 
which  have  no  atmosphere  and  no  land- 
scape. 

The  drama  is  a species  of  literature 
which  confessedly  depends  largely  on  stage 
settings;  that  is  (in  many  cases),  on  land- 
scape. The  careful  playwright  gives  de- 
tailed attention  to  this  part  of  his  piece, 
and  one  of  his  best  allies  is  the  scene 
painter.  We  can  all  remember,  for  ex- 
ample, the  spectacular  production  of  “Ben 
Hur,”  seen  in  some  of  our  largest  theaters 
a few  years  ago;  and  certainly  we  would 
say,  without  disparagement  to  the  play, 
that  the  beautiful  landscape  settings  for  the 
various  scenes  have  over-lived  the  lines 
and  the  acting  in  our  memories. 

The  situation  is  somewhat  different 
with  the  plays  of  Shakespeare.  Our 
familiarity  with  the  lines,  and  our  in- 
structed enjoyment  of  them,  make  us,  to  a 
large  extent,  independent  of  stage  settings. 
We  can  do  without  the  concrete  back- 
ground. The  plays  were  produced  orig- 
inally, by  Shakespeare  and  his  fellows. 


259 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


without  scenery.  Occasionally  we  have 
the  Shakespearean  method  revived  in  this 
land  and  time  and  the  plays  are  acted  on 
the  bare  stage.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have 
witnessed  many  elaborated  productions  of 
“Romeo  and  Juliet,”  “Winter’s  Tale,”  “Tam- 
ing of  the  Shrew,”  “Merchant  of  Venice,” 
etc.,  in  which  the  scenery  was  a series  of  su- 
perb pictures  well  worth  seeing  for  itself  and 
without  reference  to  the  lines  or  the  acting. 
Yet  we  have  never  felt  that  the  scenery 
really  interfered  with  the  play  itself,  or 
that  it  detracted  from  the  acting  or  the 
value  of  the  lines. 

Speaking  of  Shakespeare  in  this  con- 
nection, we  may  go  yet  further.  Sitting  by 
the  fire  and  reading  the  pages  for  the  mere 
delight  of  them  as  pure  literature,  we  still 
have  the  landscape,  a good  part  of  the  time 
at  least,  standing  plainly  before  our  eyes. 
The  forest  of  Arden  is  as  plain  to  us  as 
the  salt  marshes  of  Hackensack  or  the  sand- 
hills of  Nebraska.  The  mental  picture 
which  most  of  us  have  of  Venice  was  taken 
from  the  same  book,  and  it  is  no  mean 
picture,  either.  How  vividly,  too,  can  we 
see  the  island  on  which  Miranda  dwelt. 

And  even  though  the  geographers  say  there 


260 


LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


is  no  seacoast  for  Bohemia,  we  are  alto- 
gether familiar  with  the  one  on  which  poor 
Perdita  was  abandoned. 

On  the  whole,  we  may  conclude  that 
the  great  master  of  the  drama  was  also  a 
master  of  landscape  painting;  and  it  seems 
fairly  clear,  moreover,  that  it  was  in  part 
his  masterful  manner  of  presenting  the 
scenery  in  his  lines  that  makes  his  scenes 
so  lifelike,  and  that  gives  us  such  a feeling 
of  completeness  in  his  work  as  a whole. 

The  Bible,  being  the  very  best  of 
literature,  has  in  it  the  very  best  of  land- 
scape. The  Jewish  people,  who  gave  us  the 
bulk  of  this  literature,  were  not  artists 
nor  landscape  gardeners  nor  nature  lovers. 
But  they  were  poets  and  prophets  and  seers, 
and  Jehovah  spoke  to  them  daily  in  the 
landscape.  The  Hebrew  Psalmist  is  always 
in  close  and  sympathetic  touch  with  field 
and  brook  and  sky.  His  Shepherd  led  him 
in  green  pastures  and  beside  still  waters. 

To  him  the  heavens  declared  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  firmament  showed  His  handi- 
work. He  had  seen,  with  the  fear  and  joy 
of  an  open-hearted  boy,  the  great  storms 
gather  on  the  hills  and  break  over  the 
valleys,  for  he  said: 


261 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


He  flew  swiftly  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind — 

He  made  darkness  his  hiding  place,  his  pavilion 
round  about  him; 

Darkness  of  waters,  thick  clouds  of  the  skies — 

At  the  brightness  before  him  his  thick  clouds 
passed, 

Hailstones  and  coals  of  fire. 

The  Lord  also  thundered  in  the  Heavens, 

And  the  Most  High  uttered  his  voice; 

Hailstones  and  coals  of  fire. 

Job  and  the  prophets  are  full  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  large  and  magnificent 
aspects  of  nature.  In  their  loftiest  passages 
deep  calleth  unto  deep  at  the  noise  of  the 
waterfalls,  or  the  air  was  filled  with  snow 
like  wool.  They  spoke  of  him  that  maketh 
Pleiades  and  Orion,  and  turneth  deep 
darkness  into  the  morning,  and  maketh  the 
day  dark  with  night,  that  calleth  for  the 
waters  of  the  sea,  and  poureth  them  out 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  And  one  who 
would  confound  all  argument  said: 

Hast  thou  entered  into  the  springs  of  the  sea? 

Or  hast  thou  walked  in  the  recesses  of  the  deep? 
Where  is  the  way  to  the  dwelling  of  light? 

And  as  for  darkness,  where  is  the  place  thereof? 
Hast  thou  entered  into  the  treasuries  of  the  snow? 
Or  hast  thou  seen  the  treasuries  of  the  hail? 

When  we  turn  to  the  words  of  the 
lowly  Nazarene,  of  whom  it  was  said  that 


262 


LANDSCAPE  IN  LITERATURE 


He  spoke  as  never  man  spake,  we  find  the 
same  intimate  pleasure  in  the  landscape  and 
in  its  phenomena.  There  is,  indeed,  a cer- 
tain important  difference  between  Jesus 
and  the  prophets,  for  while  to  them  nature 
was  often  fearful  and  awesome,  to  Him  it 
was  always  near  and  kindly.  Better  than 
they  He  saw  in  all  of  it  the  immediate 
expression  of  His  Father’s  love.  He  spoke 
with  great  tenderness  of  the  sparrows  of 
the  air  and  the  lilies  of  the  field. 

“Behold  a sower  went  forth  to  sow; 
and  as  he  sowed  some  fell  by  the  wayside, 
and  the  birds  came  and  devoured  them : and 
others  fell  upon  rocky  places,  where  they 
had  not  much  earth;  and  straightway  they 
sprang  up  because  they  had  no  deepness  of 
earth,  and  when  the  sun  was  risen  they 
were  scorched,  and  because  they  had  no 
root  they  withered  away.  And  others  fell 
among  thorns,  and  the  thorns  grew  up  and 
choked  them;  and  others  fell  upon  the 
good  ground,  and  yielded  fruit,  some  a 
hundred  fold,  some  sixty,  some  thirty.” 

“He  that  hath  ears,  let  him  hear”  this 
story  of  the  Syrian  fields.  Let  him  enjoy 
this  picture  of  the  barren,  stony  fields  and 
the  thorny,  weedy  wayside,  and  let  him 


263 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


consider  ever  more  that  this  world-beloved 
parable  of  the  Savior’s  is  as  perfect  in  its 
aesthetic  appreciation  of  the  landscape  as 
in  its  ethical  inspiration. 

In  fact,  the  whole  religion  of  Jesus  is 
a religion  of  the  fields,  not  of  cities  nor  of 
camps.  His  life  was  spent  in  the  out-of- 
doors,  under  the  open  sky,  walking  with  His 
disciples  through  the  ripening  grain-fields 
or  beside  the  waters  of  Jordan,  or  resting 
on  the  shores  of  Galilee.  His  infinitely 
beautiful  spiritual  character  was  nourished 
on  the  beauty  of  the  world  about  Him. 
There  were  no  art  galleries  nor  symphony 
concerts  for  Him,  except  the  galleries 
of  the  hills  and  the  concerts  of  the  stars  as 
they  sang  together  above  his  stony  pillow. 
But  in  all  these  things  His  Heavenly  Father 
walked  and  talked  with  Him,  even  as  He 
would  daily  speak  to  us  in  the  same  lan- 
guage, would  we  only  listen  with  quiet  de- 
votion and  simple  open-mindedness. 


264 


OLD  FRIENDS 


THE  PATH  TO  THE  WOODS 

IV m.  H.  Zerbe 


ESSAY  NUMBER  SIXTEEN 


On  the  Beauty  of  Landscape 
Psychologically  Considered 


1 


From  this  fair  home  behold  on  either  side 

The  restful  mountains  or  the  restless  sea. 

So  the  ivarm,  sheltering  walls  of  life  divide 
Time  and  its  tides  from  still  eternity. 

Look  on  the  waves — their  stormy  voices  teach 

That  not  on  earth  may  toil  and  struggle  cease. 
Look  on  the  mountains — better  far  than  speech 
Their  silent  promise  of  eternal  peace. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  “La  Maison  d’Or” 

“(7ns  ist  heute  Freude  an  der  Natur  so  selbst- 
verstandlich,  dass  es  fast  unbegreiflich  scheint,  wie 
es  Zeiten  geben  konnte,  die  jene  Freude  nicht 
kannten,  die  in  der  Natur  ungeziigelte  Wildheil  und 
nur  im  Menschenwerk  massvolle  Schonheit  erblick- 
ten.  V on  einzelnen  seit  Homer  s Zeit  geahnt,  xvard 
in  der  hoheren  Kulturschicht  unseres  V olkes  erst 
elwa  seit  Goethe  die  Schonheit  der  Landschaft 
allegemein  erkannt.  Unter  Rousseau  s Einfluss 
bildete  sich  eine  besondere  V orstellung  land- 
schaftlicher  Schonheit,  die  noch  ganz  beherrscht 
wurde  von  der  Meinung  eines  Gegensatzes  zwischen 
Mensch  und  Natur — die  Schonheit  der  Kulturland- 
schaft  ward  als  die  einzige  anerkannt.  Umbuschte 
Wiesen,  sanfte  Hiigel,  blumige  Pfade,  murmelnde 
schlangelnde  Bdchlein  und  * das  Auge  der  Land- 
schaft'  der  stille  See,  in  der  Feme  unter  dem 
Schultz  der  Kirche  das  saubere  Dorf  und  iippige  Fel- 
der und  glatte  Rinder,  von  W ohlstand  und  fried- 
lichem  Behagen  zeugend,  das  xvar  schone  Natur." 

WlLLY  Lange,  “Die  Gartengestaltung  der  Neuzeit” 


267 


f 


ON  THE  BEAUTY  OF  LANDSCAPE 
PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


fHAVE  been  reading  several  treatises 
on  art.  It  will  be  unnecessary  now 
to  give  a catalogue  of  the  books,  but 
they  covered  a wide  range.  Some  dealt 
with  the  history  of  art,  some  with  criticism, 
some  with  aesthetics,  some  with  composi- 
tion, and  some  there  were  of  special  and 
technical  subjects.  I found  most  of  them 
interesting  and  some  truly  captivating, 
but  with  almost  every  page  the  strongest 
impression  in  my  mind  was  of  what  the 
books  did  not  say. 

This  was  all  on  account  of  the 
prejudice  with  which  I began.  I had  some 
notions  of  my  own.  My  mind  was  full  of 
a subject  on  which  these  art  books  were 
expected  to  throw  some  light;  but  though 
there  often  was,  indeed,  some  agreeable 
illumination  thrown  upon  my  prejudices, 
it  was  remarkable  how  the  light  seemed 
always  to  be  directed  another  way.  There 


269 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


seemed  to  be  something  really  purposeful 
about  it.  The  authors  of  those  books 
evidently  regarded  my  subject  as  outside 
the  reach  of  their  inquiries.  One  writer, 
indeed,  did  come  squarely  up  to  my  subject 
in  a paragraph  which  I shall  refer  to  again; 
showing  that  he  realized  the  pertinence  of 
it,  but  he  promptly  veered  away  to  triter 
things  without  even  waiting  to  convince 
one  of  the  generalizations  which  he  drew. 

The  subject  which  I had  in  my  mind 
was  landscape  gardening.  Now,  I take 
landscape  gardening  to  be  very  obviously 
entitled  to  a place  among  the  fine  arts. 

It  should  be  practiced  and  judged  according 
to  the  same  principles  which  govern  in 
sculpture  or  music.  The  fundamental  laws 
of  composition  (if  there  be  any  such)  would 
apparently  be  alike  for  all  the  arts, — or,  as 
we  might  better  say,  for  all  forms  of  art.  And 
since  every  kind  of  art  strives  after  beauty, 
it  is  quite  as  important  to  landscape  garden- 
ing as  to  poetry  or  painting  to  understand 
the  nature  of  beauty  and  the  conditions 
under  which  it  is  realized. 

Now  that  beauty  has  been  mentioned, 
we  may  change  the  point  of  view  just  a 
little  and  notice  that  the  natural  landscape 


270 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


is  often  beautiful.  Whether  or  not  we 
would  call  it  a work  of  art,  a good  native 
landscape  appeals  to  the  same  aesthetic 
faculties  and  produces  the  same  psycholo- 
gical effects  as  does  a noble  piece  of  archi- 
tecture. The  landscape  gardener  ought 
to  know  the  beauties  of  natural  landscape 
— that’s  plain  enough; — but  the  psycholo- 
gist studying  beauty  or  the  critic  studying 
art  ought  to  learn  what  there  is  in  land- 
scape that  delights  us. 

The  beauty  of  landscape  is  capable 
of  this  simple  demonstration,  that  men  are 
willing  to  pay  for  it.  The  little  railroad 
carries  thousands  of  persons  up  Pike’s 
Peak,  whither  passengers  go  to  see  the 
world;  and  a good  view  of  the  Sound  adds 
five  thousand  dollars  to  the  price  of  a 
building  lot  in  Greenwich  or  Stamford, 
Conn.  The  money  value  of  landscape  in 
the  real  estate  market  is  too  well  known 
to  be  dwelt  upon  further. 

The  professional  landscape  gardener 
makes  landscapes  for  his  customers  as  a 
painter  paints  portraits.  He  receives  his 
fee,  and  he  is  worthy  of  his  hire.  He  de- 
livers to  his  client,  if  he  is  an  honest  man, 
something  of  value ; and  the  value  which  he 


271 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


gives  is  an  aesthetic  value.  If  it  is  com- 
mensurable at  all  it  would  have  to  be 
computed  in  terms  of  beauty. 

Before  going  any  further  we  ought  to 
assure  ourselves  that  we  are  not  to  be 
confused  by  talking  of  different  kinds  of 
landscape.  The  gardener  may  arrange  two 
trees,  a dozen  shrubs  and  a rood  of  grass 
in  such  a manner  as  to  make  the  whole  a 
satisfying  work  of  art,  but  such  a limited 
quantity  of  materials  will  hardly  form  a 
landscape  in  the  same  sense  in  which  we 
use  that  term  when  we  speak  of  the  view 
from  Interlaken  toward  the  Jungfrau,  from 
the  top  of  the  Washington  monument,  or 
from  any  other  point  of  vantage.  We  are 
apparently  dealing  with  two  different 
things  here,  in  which  elements  of  beauty 
may  be  unlike,  and  it  may  be  important  to 
bear  this  distinction  in  mind.  Inasmuch, 
however,  as  this  inquiry  started  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  landscape  gardener,  we 
cannot  now  discard  his  works;  and  as  it  is 
obviously  of  importance  to  understand  at 
the  same  time  wherein  the  beauty  of 
natural  landscape  consists,  we  can  not  drop 
that  part  of  the  subject  either. 

In  its  broad  sense,  therefore,  a land- 


272 


BROWN  OCTOBER 


THE  MEADOW  BROOK 

C.  F.  Clarke 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


scape  ought  to  be  any  view  of  the  world 
out-of-doors.  Even  a glimpse  of  Broad- 
way, or  a look  at  the  Illinois  River  from 
Randolph  Street,  might  by  courtesy  be 
called  a landscape.  The  little  compositions 
of  the  gardener  will  be  landscapes,  too, 
in  so  far  as  they  are  to  be  judged  upon  the 
principles  of  aesthetics.  At  the  same  time 
we  recognize  that  the  common  use  of  the 
word  limits  it  to  larger  fields  of  natural 
scenery,  or  to  that  scenery  in  which  the 
works  of  uninstructed  nature  predominate. 

If  now  we  propose  the  main  question 
and  ask  what  there  is  in  such  a landscape 
that  is  beautiful,  or  more  simply  why  it 
pleases  us,  we  shall  find  ourselves  in  deep 
water  immediately.  What  is  beauty,  after 
all?  and  how  does  anything  beautiful  please 
us?  These  are  the  questions  which  have 
occupied  many,  many  books,  and  some  of 
those  I have  been  reading. 

Turning  aside  a moment  from  this 
inquiry,  we  may  assume  the  settlement  of 
another  interesting  point  which  has  been 
raised.  We  may  look  upon  it  as  hardly 
worth  arguing  that  the  beauty  of  landscape 
rests  finally  upon  the  same  ground  as  the 
beauty  of  painting,  sculpture  and  other  art 


273 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


matters;  and  more  specifically  we  may  con- 
sider it  axiomatically  evident  that  those 
landscapes  that  are  artificially  composed 
and  constructed  are  to  be  judged  as  works 
of  art,  according  to  exactly  the  same  prin- 
ciples which  govern  the  criticism  of  archi- 
tecture, poetry  or  the  drama. 

And  now,  what  is  beauty?  Consider- 
ing how  simple  and  common  a word  this  is, 
we  ought  to  know.  Moreover,  when  we 
think  what  strenuous  analysis  has  been  ap- 
plied to  the  subject  by  many  of  the  ablest 
minds  of  the  world — philosophers,  meta- 
physicians, psychologists, — we  should 
expect  that  the  last  word  had  been  said. 
Yet,  when  we  come  to  go  over  the  ground 
and  see  what  all  this  analysis  has  yielded, 
the  net  result  seems  to  be  little  short  of 
chaos.  With  hundreds  of  books  dealing 
with  these  matters,  more  or  less  directly, 
only  a few  definitions  of  beauty  have  been 
seriously  attempted,  and  these  are  remark- 
able most  of  all  for  their  radical  disagree- 
ment. If  anyone  has  ever  been  able  to  tell 
just  what  beauty  is,  he  has  never  succeeded 
in  satisfying  with  his  definition  even  the 
critics  of  his  own  school.  One  of  the  most 
recent  and  thoroughgoing  writers  in  this 


274 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


field  has  begun  his  book  with  the  statement 
that  “it  would  be  easy  to  find  a definition 
of  beauty  that  would  give  in  a few  words  a 
telling  paraphrase  of  the  word.”  The  last 
sentence  of  the  same  delightful  book  asserts 
that  “beauty  is  a pledge  of  the  possible 
conformity  between  the  soul  and  nature, 
and  consequently  a ground  of  faith  in  the 
supremacy  of  the  good.”  How  well  these 
two  dicta  run  together! 

Now  we  shall  be  doing  Professor 
Santayana  an  injustice  and  neglecting  our 
own  opportunity  at  the  same  time  did  we 
not  notice  that  in  the  body  of  the  book  a 
set  definition  of  beauty  is  rendered.  This 
is  it:  Beauty  “is  value  positive,  intrinsic, 
and  objectified;  or,  in  less  technical  lan- 
guage, beauty  is  pleasure  regarded  as  the 
quality  of  a thing.” 

The  complete  criticism  of  this  definition 
would  involve  another  book;  but  with  very 
few  words  we  may  fix  two  important  ele- 
ments— First,  “beauty  is  pleasure,” — that 
is  a feeling  within  the  individual  human 
consciousness,  not  an  objective  quality  in 
the  thing  we  call  beautiful.  And  the  second 
phrase  of  the  definition  comes  back  to  the 
same  point,  for  beauty  is  only  “regarded 


275 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


as  the  quality  of  a thing,”  and  this  regard 
is  a sort  of  psychic  illusion ; — the  thing  itself 
does  not  really  possess  any  quality  which 
may  be  properly  called  beauty.  Although 
modern  psychologists  nearly  all  take  this 
view  of  beauty,  it  is  radically  different 
from  the  popular  feeling  on  the  subject 
which  holds  beauty  to  be  a sensible  ob- 
jective quality. 

Some  old-time  attempts  at  a definition 
of  beauty  ought  to  be  noticed  in  passing, 
if  only  for  their  curious  interest.  Beauty 
has  been  said  to  be  “the  objectification  of 
the  Deity,”  “the  expression  of  the  ideal  to 
sense,”  “the  sensible  manifestation  of  the 
good,”  “the  union  of  the  real  and  the 
ideal,”  and  many  more  equally  sonorous 
and  inconceivable  things.  Schopenhauer 
has  called  music  “the  objectification  of  the 
will.”  If  it  is,  so  is  sculpture  and  landscape 
gardening. 

But  none  of  these  definitions  helps  us 
to  any  further  understanding  of  the  sub- 
ject. We  may  find  it  a curious  and  pleasant 
occupation  to  compare  these  dicta  with  our 
own  experiences  of  the  facts;  but  after 
such  a comparison  we  find  ourselves  still' 
wondering  what  the  objectification  of  Deity 


276 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


is,  or  wherein  we  have  seen  a union  of  the 
real  and  the  ideal. 

The  most  recent  and  most  successful 
attempt  to  bring  our  knowledge  of  beauty 
down  to  more  fundamental  grounds  has 
been  made  in  the  field  of  psychology,  which 
is  quite  certainly  the  only  field  in  which  this 
investigation  can  be  hopefully  cultivated. 
The  most  satisfactory  statement  of  the 
whole  matter  that  I have  seen  is  that  given 
in  Miss  Puffer’s  “Psychology  of  Beauty,” 
and  the  following  very  brief  statement  of 
the  matter  is  made  with  her  work  in  my 
mind’s  foreground. 

Let  us  notice,  then,  that,  according 
to  this  psychological  theory,  all  impressions 
of  the  world  without  are  experienced  in  the 
body  in  the  form  of  nerve  or  muscle  ten- 
sions. Probably  there  is  in  every  case  a 
very  close  and  precise  co-ordination  of 
muscle  tension  with  nerve  tension,  though 
it  is  very  difficult  in  common  experience  to 
separate  them.  In  fact,  the  muscular  ten- 
sions are  consciously  felt  only  in  com- 
paratively infrequent  instances,  yet  often 
enough  to  make  this  perfectly  familiar 
experience  to  all  of  us.  Let  one  receive  a 
whiff  of  mignonette  or  hear  a single  clear 


277 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


note  struck  on  the  piano  and  he  will  be 
able  to  observe  the  muscular  tension  which 
immediately  ensues.  By  following  such 
experiments  only  a little  way  one  may 
see  that  the  sight  of  a sphere  or  of  a lamp 
or  a picture  immediately  produces  nerve 
and  muscle  tensions,  for  the  nerves  some- 
times make  themselves  felt  more  clearly 
than  the  muscles. 

Now,  certain  of  these  tensions  are 
agreeable.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  ac- 
curate to  say  that  certain  degrees  of  tension 
are  agreeable.  Indeed,  it  is  one  of  the 
commonest  theories  of  physical  pleasure 
and  pain  that  the  former  arises  from  a de- 
gree of  nerve  excitation  which,  if  carried 
beyond  certain  limits,  produces  the  latter. 

For  the  far  greatest  part,  however,  our 
physical  and  mental  experiences  consist 
not  in  the  reception  of  single  isolated  im- 
pressions, as  the  hearing  of  one  simple 
note  or  the  seeing  of  one  straight  line,  but 
in  the  reception  of  very  complicated  groups 
and  series  of  impressions.  We  see  a picture 
all  at  once  with  thousands  of  lines,  with 
various  forms  and  masses,  with  lights  and 
shadows  and,  perhaps,  with  many  different 
colors.  These  hundreds,  or  even  thousands, 


278 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


of  items  are  all  taken  up  and  repeated  in 
the  body  as  nerve  and  muscle  tensions ; but 
they  are  at  the  same  time  blended  into  one 
complex  of  experience, — into  one  single 
result, — the  total  effect  of  the  picture. 
Now,  when  these  various  tensions,  pulling 
in  all  directions,  balance  one  another,  there 
is  produced  a state  of  nervous  and  mus- 
cular equilibrium  or  rest.  And  it  is  pre- 
cisely this  state  of  equilibrium  in  a highly 
excited  muscular  and  nervous  system  that 
gives  the  organic  effect  of  beauty.  And 
the  beautiful  object  is  the  one  which  will 
produce  all  these  tensions  in  the  highest 
degree  and  which  will  at  the  same  time 
produce  them  with  such  place  and  direction 
that  they  will  all  fall  into  a state  of 
perfect  equilibrium. 

As  it  is  a matter  of  considerable  im- 
portance, especially  to  the  artist  (painter, 
architect,  or  landscape  gardener),  to  know 
by  what  means  the  effect  of  beauty  is 
realized,  it  may  pay  us  to  look  at  the  whole 
subject  for  a few  minutes  from  another 
point  of  view.  My  students  come  to  my 
classes  in  landscape  gardening  without  any 
previous  preparation  in  psychology,  and  I 
am  accustomed  to  present  this  matter  to 


279 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


them,  approximately,  in  the  following 
terms : 

It  is  important  to  begin  by  showing, 
as  may  be  done  by  very  simple  kinder- 
garten experiments,  that  the  realm  of  the 
beautiful  is  altogether  divorced  from  the 
realm  of  the  true  and  the  other  realm  of 
the  good.  Everyone  is  in  the  habit  of 
considering  evidences  of  fact,  and  of 
rendering  judgment  as  to  what  is  true  and 
what  untrue,  though  the  majority  of  per- 
sons are  totally  untrained  in  any  method 
of  artistic  criticism;  that  is,  in  the  forma- 
tion of  judgments  as  to  what  is  beautiful 
and  what  is  ugly. 

There  are  four  ways  in  which  men 
arrive  at  a knowledge  of  facts  in  the  world 
of  truth;  and  there  are  four  corresponding 
ways  in  which  they  arrive  at  a knowledge 
of  beauty. 

First  of  all,  either  truth  or  beauty  may 
be  recognized  by  a direct  and  immediate 
reaction  of  the  organism.  A child  touches 
a hot  stove,  and  immediately  recognizes  a 
fact,  namely,  that  the  stove  is  hot.  No 
mental  process  is  involved.  An  angle-worm 
would  recognize  the  same  fact  if  it  hap- 
pened to  touch  the  hot  stove,  and  would 


280 


WOMEN  MUST  WAIT 

Frank  A.  Waugh 


THE  CHARLES  RIVER 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


draw  away  from  the  unpleasant  thing  just 
as  the  child  would.  An  exactly  parallel 
experiment  may  be  made  in  the  realm  of 
the  aesthetic.  If  several  colored  balls  are 
offered  to  a creeping  infant,  certain  colors 
will  be  chosen  in  preference  to  others. 

The  organism  reacts  immediately  and 
favorably  toward  these  colors.  There  is 
no  reasoning  process  here,  any  more  than  in 
determining  that  the  stove  is  hot.  A 
moth  will  fly  to  the  light,  certain  animals 
will  come  to  certain  sounds,  the  dog  howls 
when  the  organ  plays,  the  bull  resents  a 
bright  red  color,  while  the  colored  coquette 
at  the  cake-walk  fits  herself  out  with  all 
the  red  she  can  carry.  In  no  such  case  is 
there  any  reasoning  about  what  is  attractive 
or  repulsive,  nor  anything  at  all  analogous 
to  reason.  The  animal,  no  matter  what  the 
species,  finds  some  sights,  sounds,  smells 
agreeable  and  others  disagreeable.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  putting  this  into  better  terms  to 
say  that  certain  sights,  sounds,  smells  pro- 
duce agreeable  tensions  in  the  body,  but 
in  reality  this  does  not  let  us  much  further 
into  the  secret. 

Secondly,  we  learn  by  experience. 
Experience  is  known  metaphysically  as 


281 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


inductive  reason.  After  I have  been 
kicked  several  times  by  a mule  I learn 
that  a mule  is  apt  to  kick.  We  “learn  to 
like”  olives,  and  we  learn  to  like  Wagnerian 
music;  and  I have  seen  New  Englanders 
who  at  first  were  disgusted  with  the  land- 
scape of  Kansas,  finally  learn  to  like  it  as 
well  as  I do.  I know  that  this  last  illus- 
trative example  particularly  is  complicated 
with  other  elements,  but  there  is  at  the 
bottom  a certain  quantity  of  beauty 
realized  through  experience.  In  a some- 
what different  manner,  yet  in  a manner 
truly  exemplifying  the  accumulation  of 
experience  in  aesthetic  affairs,  we  learn 
that  blue  and  orange  are  agreeable  com- 
binations of  color,  while  red  and  purple  are 
disagreeable;  or  we  learn  that  Acan- 
thopanax  pentaphylla  makes  a better 
group  when  combined  with  Rhus  copallina 
than  when  used  with  Van  Houtt’s  Spirea. 

Thirdly,  we  know  some  things  by  sheer 
power  of  deductive  reason.  The  knowledge 
which  abstract  reason  gives  us  in  the  world 
of  truth  has  its  analogue  in  the  world  of 
beauty.  Our  knowledge  that  the  angles 
of  a triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  angles 
is  independent  of  experience.  So  there 


282 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


are  certain  abstract  relationships  in 
aesthetics  which  any  sane  person  will 
acknowledge  upon  their  plain  statement, 
and  without  argument  or  illustration. 
Such  is  the  principle  of  unity.  Let  anyone 
understand  what  unity  is  and  he  will  know 
immediately,  and  in  a sort  abstractly  and 
intellectually,  that  unity  is  a fundamental 
requirement  in  any  work  of  art, — in  any 
painting,  poem  or  garden.  What  is  more, 
he  will  be  able  immediately  to  relate  his 
concrete  experiences  to  this  abstract 
principle,  and  from  the  correspondences 
which  he  finds  to  know  whether  the  object 
is  beautiful  or  ugly.  At  this  point  we  come 
very  near  to  finding  pure  objective  beauty; 
and  in  so  far  as  the  unity  of  elements  in 
any  work  of  art  may  be  instantly  appre- 
hended and  universally  understood  and 
accepted,  the  object  might  be  said  to  be 
beautiful  in  itself,  as  well  in  the  experience 
which  it  gives  to  some  person. 

Lastly,  we  accept  many  weighty 
matters  of  fact  on  authority.  I know  it  is 
“nineteen  miles  from  Schenectady  to 
Albany,”  but  I never  measured  it.  I know 
that  Abraham  Lincoln  was  very  tall  and  far 
from  handsome,  though  he  died,  alas,  before 


283 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


I was  born.  Daily,  almost  hourly,  we 
commit  our  very  lives  to  the  truth  of  cer- 
tain propositions  which  we  have  never 
verified  and  never  expect  to  try  to  verify. 
It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  we  should 
find  nothing  corresponding  to  this  in  the 
aesthetic  world.  Some  persons  are  color 
blind.  For  them  color  schemes  must  go 
by  authority.  Some  persons  “have  a poor 
ear  for  music.”  The  word  of  a critic  must 
satisfy  them  as  to  what  is  good  and  what 
bad.  We  read  Shakespeare  long  before 
we  really  enjoy  it,  because  we  believe  on 
authority  that  it  is  good.  But  presently 
we  learn  to  like  Shakespeare  or  the  music 
which  at  first  did  not  please  us,  and  herein 
lies  the  justification  of  our  application  of 
this  principle  to  the  world  of  aesthetics. 
The  student  always  reads  good  books, 
studies  good  pictures,  listens  to  good  music, 
under  the  direction  of  authority,  “in  order 
to  improve  his  taste.”  The  whole  theory 
of  the  improvement  of  taste,  therefore, 
rests  upon  our  willingness  to  accept  as 
beautiful  those  objects  in  which  others  have 
found  beauty.  It  is  the  unpardonable 
aesthetic  sin,  of  course,  to  rely  always  on 
the  judgment  of  others,  and  never  to  know 


284 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


from  one’s  own  immediate  experience  the 
feelings  of  beauty.  It  is  better  to  love  a 
rag-time  cake  walk  honestly  and  with  one’s 
own  heart  than  to  admire  Chopin  because 
someone  says  one  ought.  Nevertheless,  the 
critics  should  not  be  too  hard  on  those  who 
accept  aesthetic  judgments  on  authority, 
for  if  it  were  impossible  to  do  just  that  the 
critics  would  be  of  no  further  use  in  the 
world. 

All  these  long  theories  may  be  rather 
tiresome  to  one  who  is  anxiously  waiting 
to  hear  something  about  landscape;  and 
besides  that  it  does  seem  superfluous  to 
add  another  discussion  of  the  psychology 
of  beauty  to  the  hundreds  already  in  print. 
However,  no  one  can  consider  thoughtfully 
the  question,  what  is  beautiful  in  landscape, 
without  asking  almost  immediately  the 
other  question,  what  is  beauty  itself  in  the 
last  analysis.  The  great  number  of  answers 
already  proposed  for  this  last  question 
would  be  more  satisfactory  if  there  was 
more  unanimity  among  them.  And  since 
we  can  not  easily  take  any  one  of  them 
as  the  basis  for  our  study  of  landscape 
beauty,  it  has  seemed  really  necessary  to 
review  the  problem  here. 


285 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


When  the  landscape  architect  puts  his 
materials  together, — his  lawns,  rocks,  trees, 
shrubs,  pergolas  and  ponds, — he  is  com- 
posing pictures  in  the  same  sense  and  in 
much  the  same  way  as  does  the  landscape 
painter.  He  arranges  the  various  elements 
to  give  certain  groupings  when  seen  from 
certain  points  of  view.  From  each  view- 
point he  imagines  a certain  picture,  com- 
plete in  itself  and  somewhat  definitely 
framed  within  certain  limits.  It  is  evident 
that  Professor  Santayana  does  not  have 
in  mind  the  landscape  architect  when  he 
speaks  of  the  landscape  as  “indeterminate,” 
and  says  that  “landscape  appeals  to  us  as 
music  does  to  those  who  have  no  sense  of 
musical  form.” 

Of  course,  these  pieces  of  landscape, 
artificially  produced  within  limited  bounds, 
present  the  same  elements  of  beauty  as 
those  found  in  a painted  landscape.  Only 
we  ought  to  notice  that  whatever  means 
the  painter  may  have  of  stimulating  the 
imagination, — of  exciting  strong  and 
agreeable  tensions  in  the  body, — such 
means  are  far  surpassed  by  those  com- 
manded by  the  landscape  gardener.  The 
magnitude  counts  for  something,  the  three 


286 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


actual  dimensions  counts  for  more,  the 
presence  of  living  elements — grass,  flowers, 
trees,  water, — counts  for  still  more.  In 
the  real  landscape  garden  there  is  every- 
thing to  be  enjoyed  that  the  painted  picture 
has  to  give  and  much  besides. 

It  is  evident  also  that  the  effects,  rules 
and  limitations  would  be  alike  in  the  painted 
picture  and  in  the  artificial  landscape.  Part 
must  be  balanced  against  part,  light  must 
balance  shade,  color  must  meet  and  har- 
monize with  color.  If  a good  painting 
produces  a high  degree  of  nervous  or 
muscular  stimulation  with  a feeling  of 
repose,  equilibrium,  satisfaction,  so  does 
the  landscape  architect’s  masterpiece. 

In  my  book  on  landscape  gardening  I 
have  shown  that  every  good  landscape 
requires  unity,  variety,  propriety,  character 
and  finish.  These  qualities  seem  to  me  to 
be  fundamental,  and  to  belong  not  to  the 
gardener’s  landscape  alone,  but  to  the 
sculptor’s  statue  or  the  lecturer’s  oration. 

It  seems  hardly  necessary  here  to  define 
these  terms  or  to  demonstrate  these 
qualities  in  the  landscape.  The  ideas  are 
quite  simple,  and  the  application  for  the 
most  part  obvious. 


287 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


When  we  turn  to  the  natural  un- 
tutored landscape  we  meet  conditions  con- 
siderably different.  The  picture  is  here,  to 
a large  degree  at  least,  indeterminate.  It 
has  no  bounds  and  in  general  has  no  com- 
position. If  the  natural  landscape  pleases 
us,  therefore,  it  is  not  by  any  balance  of 
parts  producing  an  equilibrium  of  bodily 
tensions.  The  pleasure  must  come  from 
qualities  simpler  and  more  elementary  than 
those  of  form.  Still,  the  case  is  not  without 
parallel.  Some  people,  savages  at  least, 
enjoy  formless  music;  and  elementary  tones 
or  colors,  quite  without  form,  may  produce 
sensibly  agreeable  effects  even  in  the  most 
sophisticated  of  us.  So,  too,  certain  kinds 
of  literature  are  to  a large  degree  formless. 
Probably  in  the  bulk  of  our  reading  we 
are  affected  chiefly  by  content,  and  only 
slightly  by  form. 

While  it  seems  to  imply  a contradiction 
of  terms  to  speak  of  the  natural  landscape 
as  a work  of  art,  we  can  not  deny  that  it 
does  give  the  true  aesthetic  experience  in 
a very  marked  and  emphatic  way.  One 
great  poet  said, 

I will  look  up  unto  the  hills  whence  cometh  my 
help. 


288 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


And  when,  at  the  pinnacle  of  his  inspira- 
tion, he  most  clearly  shadowed  forth  the 
glories  of  the  heavenly  world,  he  said, 

He  leadeth  me  in  green  pastures, 

And  beside  the  still  waters. 

Indeed,  if  any  acquaintance  of  ours 
should  testify  that  he  had  never  been 
moved  at  the  sight  of  any  landscape,  we 
would  deny  him  altogether.  He  might  not 
understand  Beethoven,  he  might  care  noth- 
ing for  Shakespeare,  he  might  be  ignorant 
of  sculpture  and  painting,  but  if  he  had 
never  known  the  thrill  that  landscape  can 
give  he  would  be  a savage  irreclaimable. 
For  only  the  brutes  and  the  lowest  savages 
live  in  the  landscape  and  do  not  see  it. 

But,  though  it  be  true  that  “the 
promiscuous  natural  landscape  has  no  real 
unity,” — that  is,  no  composition  of  parts, — 
it  is  still  able  to  affect  us  most  agreeably. 
The  “equilibrium  of  tensions”  cannot  be 
secured  from  the  balancing  of  very  diverse 
and  complicated  elements,  but  there  is 
evidently  present  the  same  “aesthetic 
repose.”  The  beholder  of  a beautiful 
landscape  also  experiences,  in  a most 
marked  degree,  the  favorable  stimulation — 


289 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  muscular  and  nervous  tensions — which 
accompany  the  enjoyment  of  any  effective 
work  of  art.  Though  these  tensions  are 
evidently  less  various  than  those  induced 
by  a complicated  drama  or  symphony,  they 
are  of  the  same  kind,  and  they  often  make 
up  in  intensity  what  they  lack  in  variety. 

When  one  stands  at  a favorable  view- 
point and  looks  out  over  a far-reaching 
landscape,  he  may  easily  convince  himself 
of  the  pleasurable  feeling  of  distance  which 
grows  up  in  his  own  body.  As  his  eye  goes 
out,  from  point  to  point,  seeking  ever  a 
greater  distance,  he  feels  within  himself 
also  the  tension  of  reaching  forward. 
Often  the  whole  body  itself  is  unconsciously 
thrown  forward,  and  one  feels  an  impulse 
to  extend  the  arms,  as  though  one  would 
reach  out  and  either  clasp  the  whole  land- 
scape physically  into  one’s  hands  or  else 
be  projected  bodily  into  it.  Was  it  Addison 
who  said  that  the  far  outlook  on  the  land- 
scape is  the  symbol  of  freedom?  This 
feeling  of  distance  is  extremely  powerful. 

It  constitutes  one  of  the  most  profound 
stimulations  (or  tensions)  of  which  the 
body  is  capable,  yet  always  within  limits 
which  are  pleasurable.  The  feeling  is 


290 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


almost  as  wide  as  humanity.  Certainly 
he  would  be  savage  who  could  stand  on 
Mount  Washington  or  Marcy  and  be  un- 
moved by  the  distant  view. 

This  feeling,  yearning  or  tension  of 
distance  can  be  even  more  plainly  felt  in 
looking  at  the  stars.  When  the  sky  is  clear 
and  I look  up  steadily  with  peaceful  mind 
into  the  measureless  depths  of  the  heavens, 
the  way  pointed  off  for  us  into  spaces  of 
millions  of  miles  by  thousands  of  twinkling, 
shining  worlds,  the  tension  almost  trans- 
ports me.  My  lungs  expand,  I stretch  up 
to  my  greatest  height,  and  if  I were  not  still 
too  self-conscious  I would  spread  forth  my 
arms  and  reach  for  the  stars  as  the  baby 
cries  for  the  moon.  I wonder  if  the  dog 
who  howls  at  the  moon  is  not  oppressed 
by  that  same  sense  of  the  infinity  of  space. 
The  feeling  is  wholly  immediate  and 
irrational.  No  reasoning  is  involved.  We 
do  not  require  an  astronomical  calculation 
to  tell  us  that  the  spaces  which  our  eyes 
penetrate  are  far  beyond  our  comprehen- 
sion. The  heavens  declared  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  firmament  showed  His  handi- 
work before  any  mathematician  ever 
guessed  how  far  it  is  to  Mars  or  Saturn. 


291 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


The  enjoyment  which  we  get  from  a 
sunset  is  very  much  the  same, — immediate, 
poignant,  and  characterized  by  simple  but 
emphatic  bodily  tensions.  A sunset,  how- 
ever, has  some  sort  of  composition,  for 
there  is  a center  of  interest  round  which 
all  things  else  are  gathered  and  to  which 
all  the  accessories  are  obviously  referred. 
Then  there  is  likely  to  be  a color  develop- 
ment of  almost  equal  appeal,  surpassing 
almost  any  other  exhibit  of  colors  known 
to  the  eye.  And  we  must  not  forget  that 
color  is  one  of  the  chief  materials  for  pro- 
ducing aesthetic  enjoyment. 

While  we  are  speaking  of  colors  in  this 
particular  connection,  we  ought  to  say 
just  one  word  about  the  rainbow.  Not 
since  humanity  has  been  human  has  the 
rainbow  made  its  appeal  in  vain.  The  form 
of  it  has  an  important  effect  in  making  it 
beautiful,  but  the  colors  are  beyond  all 
other  comparison,  delightful.  Nowhere 
in  poetry  or  science  is  there  any  other 
measure  either  for  variety  or  for  perfect 
harmony  of  colors.  The  pleasure  of  it 
is  indisputable,  inevitable.  We  have  only 
to  notice  that,  both  in  form  and  coloring, 
the  rainbow  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  pro- 


292 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


duce  that  “exaltation  with  repose” — that 
excitation  of  tensions  brought  into  equi- 
librium— which  we  have  learned  to  think 
is  characteristic  of  the  feeling  of  beauty. 

We  have  still  another  and  a very  im- 
portant quality  of  landscape  to  consider. 
This  is  the  one  that  psychologists  call  ex- 
pression, and  that  the  common  people  speak 
of  as  association.  Almost  every  work  of 
art  has  these  associations  which,  in  our 
minds,  always  cluster  round  it.  We  can 
not  hear  the  Doxology  sung  without  think- 
ing of  refreshing  hours  in  church,  perhaps 
of  particular  churches  in  which  we  used  to 
worship,  and  of  dear  friends  whom  we 
knew  there.  An  old  song  will  sometimes 
almost  move  us  to  tears, — not  because  it 
is  so  beautiful,  but  because  of  the  flood  of 
recollections  which  it  brings  to  us.  The 
Angelus  suggests  to  us  all  the  hard  toil 
of  the  peasants’  life  with  the  faithful  piety 
which  ennobles  it. 

So  the  landscape  is  capable  of  a great 
deal  of  expression.  It  may  be  filled  with 
pleasant  or  moving  associations.  The 
checkered  farms  spread  out  upon  the  hill- 
sides or  snuggling  in  the  valleys  suggest  to 
us  all  the  pleasant  memories  of  farm  life; 


293 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


the  little  village  half  hidden  among  the 
trees  fills  our  minds  with  thoughts  of  the 
peaceful,  busy  human  lives  centered  there; 
the  village  church,  with  its  aspiring  steeple, 
calls  on  us  to  remember  the  worship  of 
God,  and  we  wonder  if  He,  too,  is  not  in- 
stantly looking  down  on  the  beautiful  world 
that  He  has  made  and  thinking  of  those 
who  have  purposed  thus  to  praise  Him. 

If  the  landscape  happens  to  be  one 
with  which  we  are  familiar,  the  associa- 
tions are  multiplied  a hundred-fold,  or  a 
thousand-fold.  And  if  it  happens, — oh, 
rare  joy! — that  we  come  back  after  years 
of  separation  to  a landscape  once  dear  and 
familiar,  then,  indeed,  the  tide  of  recollec- 
tions may  sweep  us  almost  away,  and  the 
exaltation  of  it  all  is  almost  too  painful  to 
bear.  Under  such  circumstances  more 
than  one  strong  man  has  given  way  to 
tears.  When  the  army  of  the  defeated  Cyrus 
came  back  from  its  long  and  heartrending 
campaign  in  Persia,  the  homesick  soldiers 
fell  down  and  wept  when,  from  the  top  of 
a hill,  they  caught  the  first  view  of  the  sea. 

We  have  seen  that  the  landscape  is 
beautiful.  Its  beauty  is  of  the  same  sort 
that  we  find  in  music  or  sculpture, — that 


294 


PSYCHOLOGICALLY  CONSIDERED 


is,  it  affects  us  in  the  same  way.  It  pro- 
duces in  us  the  same  physiological  tensions, 
and  sometimes  the  same  balance  of  tensions, 
produced  by  an  agreeable  work  of  art. 
The  artificial  landscape,  a product  of  human 
thought  and  invention,  has  the  same  quali- 
ties of  composition  and  purpose  which  any 
work  of  art  may  have.  The  natural  land- 
scape, in  particular,  has  unusual  power,  as, 
for  example,  through  its  effect  of  distance, 
of  arousing  in  us  the  characteristic  effects 
of  beauty.  And,  finally,  the  landscape 
more  than  most  works  of  art  is  infinitely 
rich  in  the  beauty  of  association. 


295 


ESSAY  NUMBER  SEVENTEEN 

Suggesting  Some  Practical 
Applications 


Rich  gift  of  Cod!  A year  of  time! 

What  pomp  of  rise  and  shut  of  day. 
What  hues  wherewith  our  northern  clime 

Makes  autumn  s dropping  woodlands  gay. 
What  airs  outblown  from  ferny  dells. 

And  clover-bloom  and  sweetbrier  smells 
What  songs  of  brooks  and  birds,  what  fruits  and 
flowers. 

Green  woods  and  moonlit  snows,  have  in  its  round 
been  ours! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier, 

“The  Last  Walk  in  Autumn” 


Let  the  youth  make  haste  to  Fontainebleau,  and 
once  there  let  him  address  himself  to  the  spirit  of 
the  place ; he  will  learn  more  from  exercise  than 
from  studies,  although  both  are  necessary;  and  if  he 
can  get  into  his  heart  the  gaiety  and  inspiration  of 
the  woods,  he  will  have  gone  far  to  undo  the 
evil  of  his  sketches.  A spirit  once  well  strung  up 
to  the  concert  pitch  of  the  primeval  out-of-doors  will 
hardly  dare  to  finish  a study  and  magniloquently 
ticket  it  a picture! 

R.  L.  Stevenson, 

in  “Fontainebleau” 


299 


SUGGESTING  SOME  PRACTICAL 
APPLICATIONS 


'9^  HERE  are  two  ways  of  studying 
landscape,  as  there  are  of  studying 
every  art.  These  may  be  somewhat 
accurately  called  the  professional  and  the 
amateur  methods.  The  professional  art 
student  expects  to  earn  a livelihood  by 
painting  pictures  or  designing  buildings. 
The  amateur  expects  only  to  learn  to  enjoy 
pictures,  architecture  or  music.  More 
strictly  speaking,  the  amateur  expects  to 
enlarge  his  own  capacities  of  enjoyment, 
and,  if  he  have  a proper  flavor  of  altruism 
in  him,  he  doubtless  hopes  to  make  his 
enlarged  capacities  and  powers  transmit 
some  true  satisfactions  to  other  lives. 

An  intelligent  appreciation  of  land- 
scape seems  to  have  been  too  rare  among 
all  sorts  of  art  students,  both  professionals 
and  amateurs.  It  has  been  thought  quite 
necessary  that  a good  actor  should  know 
literature  and  painting  and  music,  but 
Joseph  Jefferson  has  been  almost  the  only 


301 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


one  to  own  a well-trained  and  vitalizing 
contact  with  landscape.  The  ambitious 
music  student  enriches  his  mind  with  the 
best  of  literature  and  with  frequent  visits 
to  the  art  galleries.  He  ought  also  to  know 
the  unwritten  literature  of  the  forests  and 
the  unpaintable  pictures  of  the  evening 
sky.  The  professional  landscape  archi- 
tects certainly,  of  all  the  artist-world,  ought 
to  make  a comprehensive  study  of  the 
natural  landscape  in  preparation  for  their 
careers.  Yet,  as  one  reads  President  Eliot’s 
memoirs  of  his  son,  he  feels  as  though 
this  artist  stood  almost  alone  in  the 
breadth  and  depth  of  the  foundations  he 
laid.  We  can  remember,  to  be  sure,  that 
the  two  men  who  did  most  to  advance 
landscape  art  in  America — Downing  and 
Olmsted — were  devoted  and  lifelong  stu- 
dents of  the  fields,  the  hills,  the  rivers  and 
the  trees. 

Most  of  all,  however,  should  the  land- 
scape be  better  appreciated  and  more 
generally  used  as  a means  of  widening  and 
enriching  the  lives  of  the  laity, — of  common 
men  and  women, — street-car  conductors, 
farmers  and  unimaginative  real  estate 
speculators.  It  is  one  of  the  crying  de- 


302 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


ficiencies  of  our  American  system  of  edu- 
cation that  it  does  so  little  to  develop 
the  aesthetic  side  of  the  ordinary  citizen. 
When  one  goes  to  Berlin,  for  example,  and 
sees  there  the  beautiful  theaters  accessible 
to  the  poorest  classes,  the  magnificent  art 
galleries  practically  free  to  all,  and  the 
wealth  of  public  concerts  in  which  the  best 
classic  music  is  truly  popularized,  he  begins 
to  feel  that  democratic  America  still  has 
something  to  do  for  her  citizens. 

The  best  things  that  have  been  done 
in  this  country,  however,  have  been  in  the 
direction  of  what  we  may  call  the  popular- 
ization of  landscape.  The  park  systems  of 
Boston,  Hartford,  New  York  and  Chicago 
have  made  beautiful  landscape  a daily  in- 
gredient in  hundreds  of  thousands  of  lives 
otherwise  almost  untouched  on  the  aesthetic 
side.  This  good  work  ought  to  be  extended, 
and  the  good  things  thus  developed  ought 
to  be  systematized  and  more  widely  applied. 
The  schools  ought  to  recognize  the  value 
of  landscape,  as  they  now  recognize  the 
value  of  drawing,  literature  and  music. 

We  would  consider  that  school  very 
grossly  mismanaged  which  should  exist 
for  years  beside  a great  library  without 


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THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


making  use  of  it,  or  near  a well-stocked 
art  gallery  without  maturing  intelligent 
plans  for  bringing  its  student  body  into 
vital  touch  with  such  a means  of  uplift. 

Some  city  schools,  in  fact,  are  be- 
ginning to  use  the  parks;  but,  for  the  most 
part,  the  effort  is  desultory  and  lacking 
any  great  purpose.  The  parks  are  used 
mostly  by  way  of  picnics  for  primary 
grades.  Occasionally  the  kindergartners 
visit  the  zoological  gardens  to  see  the 
animals.  Still  more  seldom  does  the  botany 
class  study  trees  and  shrubs  in  the  parks, 
or  the  geology  pupils  come  to  see  where  the 
glaciers  planed  away  the  rocks.  Yet  the 
parks  are  full  of  pictures — real  living 
pictures; — and  the  country  roundabout, 
accessible  to  most  schools,  contains  larger 
and  sublimer  pictures  without  end.  The 
ordinary  school  children  do  not  find  it  a 
defect  that  these  pictures  are  not  recognized 
as  classics  and  that  they  are  not  classified 
and  set  down  in  the  art  catalogues.  Only 
the  sophisticated  teachers  think  it  im- 
possible, or  even  unworthy  of  them,  to 
teach  such  things,  seeing  they  are  not 
stamped  with  the  authority  (and  the 
blight)  of  conventionality.  Some  of  these 


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THE  FRAGRANT  FRUIT  TREES  BLOSSOM  FULL 


THE  FORD 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


people  would  be  afraid  to  breathe  fresh  air 
if  they  did  not  find  the  process  tediously 
described  and  justified  in  the  text-books 
of  physiology. 

Yet  the  natural  landscape  is  full  of 
poetry  and  of  wit,  and  of  a divine  beauty. 
For,  in  a certain  good  sense,  this  beauty 
is  divine,  considering  its  immediate  origin 
from  God;  and  in  such  a way  may  claim 
a pre-eminence  over  the  beauty  of  music 
or  of  sculpture.  Does  not  such  beauty  have 
its  pedagogic  value?  And  can  it  not  be 
turned  to  educational  account  as  well  as 
could  free  theaters  or  concerts?  To  both 
questions  we  may  answer  yes. 

The  precise  methods  of  turning  these 
resources  to  account  can  not  be  so  readily 
pointed  out,  seeing  they  have  not  been  the 
subject  of  endless  experiments,  as  have 
music  and  art  study.  Yet,  at  first  sight,  it 
seems  that  there  would  be  no  very  great 
difficulty  in  adapting  the  ordinary  methods 
of  schoolroom  art  study  to  the  utilization 
of  our  richer  resources  in  landscape.  A 
general  direction  toward  beautiful  things 
is  about  all  that  can  be  given  anyway. 

And  it  would  seem  quite  as  easy  to  tell  the 
child  that  the  river  which  he  sees  and  loves 


305 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


is  beautiful,  as  to  tell  him  that  the  Sistine 
Madonna,  of  which  he  has  seen  only  poor 
copies,  is  beautiful.  Or,  if  more  instruction 
is  required,  it  would  seem  to  be  quite  as 
easy  a task  to  explain  to  the  pupil  wherein 
the  rugged  sky-line,  with  its  countering 
points  of  emphasis,  is  beautiful  as  to  explain 
to  him  the  beauties  of  Dante,  written  in 
a language  which  he  knows  not,  and  con- 
ceived in  an  age  which  his  own  generation 
can  not  understand.  In  any  event,  the 
pupil  gains  nothing  until  there  awakens  in 
his  own  soul  some  response  to  the  beauties 
set  before  him  by  his  teacher.  The  success 
of  this  sort  of  teaching  is  measured  exactly 
by  the  breadth  and  depth  of  this  response, 
and  not,  as  many  persons  seem  to  imagine, 
by  the  conventional  values  placed  upon 
certain  classic  properties  (epics,  pictures 
or  statues)  which  are  used  in  the  edu- 
cational processes.  And  it  seems  clear  to 
the  writer,  who  has  had  some  experience 
in  teaching,  that  a quicker  and  more  natural 
response  is  to  be  expected  toward  the 
simple  and  familiar,  though  sometimes  sub- 
lime, beauties  of  the  neighboring  woods, 
fields  and  hills  than  toward  the  unfamiliar 
and  recondite  beauties  of  literature, 


306 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


sculpture  or  music.  As  a teacher,  I must 
say  that  I would  like  to  see  the  experiment 
fairly  tried  of  establishing  in  some  good 
school  a course  in  landscape  study  on  the 
same  basis  as  the  present  courses  in  litera- 
ture and  art.  I should  expect  it  to  be 
productive  of  equally  good  results ; and  I 
should  expect  the  methods,  once  worked 
out,  to  be  capable  of  a much  wider  applica- 
tion. 

For  those  amiable  and  practical  persons 
who  always  prefer  a concrete  statement,  I 
will  append  the  transcript  of  a very  modest 
scheme  which  has  already  been  successfully 
tried  in  the  schools  of  Amherst,  Mass.,  and 
in  various  other  schools.  The  memo- 
randum here  reproduced  is  taken  directly 
from  the  program  placed  in  the  hands  of 
the  teachers. 

PROGRAM  OF  SCHOOL  EXERCISES 
PROLOGUE 

Amherst  is  commonly  considered  to  be  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  towns  in  New  England; 
that  is  to  say,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in 
America.  This  being  so,  we  who  live  here 
ought  to  know  about  the  beauties  of  the  place 
and  ought  to  get  some  daily  enjoyment  from 
these  surroundings. 


307 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Moreover,  every  child  ought  to  learn  to  see 
the  beautiful  things  in  the  world.  Unfor- 
tunately, many  children  see  only  the  pictures 
in  the  Sunday  papers.  The  following  ex- 
ercises all  call  attention  to  things  which  are 
beautiful  and  call  for  some  judgment  on  them. 

METHOD 

At  least  one  exercise  each  week  should  be 
given  from  the  following  program.  The 
exercise  should  be  posted  on  the  blackboard, 
and  suggestions  given  by  the  teacher.  On  the 
following  day  reports  should  be  made  by 
pupils  and  discussed  in  the  schoolroom.  On 
the  next  day  pupils  should  enter  the  results  in 
their  permanent  note-books.  Pictures  should 
be  included  wherever  practicable.  Thus,  at 
the  end  of  the  term,  each  pupil  will  have  a 
note-book  entitled  “Beautiful  Amherst,”  which 
would  be  of  considerable  value. 

PROGRAM 


1.  TREES 

Where  is  the  most  beautiful  tree  in  Amherst? 
What  kind  of  a tree  is  it?  How  old?  Who 
planted  it?  Give  any  other  information. 
Where  is  the  most  beautiful  row  or  group  of 
trees  in  Amherst?  Also  the  most  beautiful 
piece  of  woods? 

2.  BROOKS 

Make  a sketch  map  of  the  town  of  Amherst, 
locating  and  naming  all  the  streams,  including 
the  smallest  brooks,  as  far  as  possible.  Where 
is  the  prettiest  stream  in  Amherst?  Why  is  it 
the  prettiest? 


308 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


3.  PONDS 

Name  and  locate  all  the  ponds  in  Amherst. 
Which  one  is  the  prettiest?  Why? 

4.  HILLS 

What  are  the  highest  hills  in  Amherst?  How 
high  are  they?  Which  ones  are  most  beautiful? 
Why  do  you  think  so? 

5.  ROADS 

Where  is  the  prettiest  piece  of  road  or  street 
in  Amherst?  If  there  are  trees  on  this  street, 
tell  what  kind  they  are. 

6.  PUBLIC  BUILDINGS 

What  is  the  most  beautiful  and  dignified 
public  building  in  Amherst?  This  includes 
the  Town  Hall,  school  buildings,  college 
buildings,  etc.  Who  designed  the  building 
which  you  think  best? 

7.  PRIVATE  PLACES 

What  is  the  prettiest  private  place  in  Amherst? 
What  is  the  prettiest  and  most  dignified 
dwelling  house?  Name  the  most  attractive 
features  of  these  places. 

8.  FARMS 

Where  is  the  most  attractive  looking  farm  in 
Amherst?  and  what  makes  it  so? 

9.  VIEWS 

Where  can  you  find  the  most  extensive  view 
in  Amherst?  What  can  you  see  from  there? 
Where  is  the  most  attractive  spot  in  town  as 
regards  outlook?  Name  several  places  which 
offer  specially  fine  views. 


309 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


10.  PICNIC  GROUNDS 

Name  and  locate  all  the  best  picnic  grounds 
in  Amherst  and  tell  what  attractions  each  one 
has. 

11.  THE  COMMONS 

Draw  a map  of  one  of  the  commons:  Center, 
North  Amherst,  East  Amherst  or  South 
Amherst.  Tell  what  could  be  done  to  im- 
prove the  common. 

12.  VILLAGE  IMPROVEMENT 

What  things  could  be  done  to  make  Amherst 
more  beautiful? 


Various  teachers  who  have  taken 
these  exercises  report  gratifying  results. 
The  essential  value  of  the  work  lies  in  the 
fact  that  each  exercise  calls  the  attention 
of  the  pupil  to  certain  beautiful  objects  and 
in  such  a way  as  to  lead  him  to  compare 
and  discriminate  on  the  basis  of  beauty. 

Another  form  of  exercise  which  I have 
tested  with  college  students,  but  which  is 
capable  of  adaptation  to  grammar  and  high 
schools,  consists  in  studying  photographs 
of  landscapes.  Of  course,  it  might  be 
assumed  at  once  that  no  photograph  is  as 
good  as  the  landscape  from  which  it  is 
taken,  but  this  assumption  is  not  quite  true. 


310 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


A clever  photographer  of  artistic  tempera- 
ment, like  Mr.  Charles  Vandervelde  or 
Mr.  William  T.  Knox,  will  frequently  make 
a photograph  which,  in  important  artistic 
qualities,  is  better  than  the  landscape  itself. 

But  the  study  of  such  photographs, 
supposing  them  to  be  well  composed  and 
happily  rendered,  has  several  advantages 
over  the  study  of  the  natural  landscape. 
Each  photograph  presents  a single  point 
of  view  and  a single  direction  and  scope  of 
view.  The  elementary  student,  therefore, 
is  not  confused  by  the  multiplicity  of 
pictures  or  the  uncertainty  of  several  ele- 
ments. The  pictures  being  fixed  are  more 
easily  analyzed  or  criticised. 

This  careful  analysis  and  specific 
criticism  on  the  part  of  the  pupil  are  essen- 
tial to  the  success  of  such  exercises.  In 
order  to  secure  these  results,  I supply  my 
pupils  with  a number  of  searching  questions, 
which  I require  them  to  answer  in  con- 
siderable detail.  The  answers  are  made 
in  writing,  and  are  finally  read  and  dis- 
cussed before  the  entire  class  and  in  the 
room  with  the  pictures. 

My  last  exercise  of  this  sort  was  based 
on  a photographic  salon  of  about  eighty 


311 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


pictures,  made  by  a dozen  of  the  best 
artist  photographers  in  America,  and  the 
results  were  very  satisfactory.  The 
pictures  were  greatly  enjoyed;  and  the 
analysis  and  criticism  of  them  not  only 
deepened  this  present  pleasure,  but  en- 
larged also  the  pupils’  capacity  for  further 
enjoyment.  For  the  benefit  of  other 
teachers,  I will  add  just  here  a copy  of  the 
questions  as  put  into  the  hands  of  each 
pupil. 


THE  COLLECTION  IN  GENERAL 

1.  How  much  material  is  usually  selected  for 
a picture?  How  does  the  amount  of  ma- 
terial affect  the  pictorial  result? 

2.  What  definite  expedients  are  adopted  to 
secure  unity? 

3.  What  is  done  for  the  sake  of  variety? 

4.  Are  any  definite  schemes  of  composition 
preferred? 

5.  What  materials  are  preferred,  as  trees,  brooks, 
hills,  etc.? 

6.  What  attention  is  paid  to  sky  line? 

7.  How  are  trees  treated  with  respect  to  group- 
ing, distance,  etc.? 

8.  What  consideration  is  given  to  atmosphere? 

In  how  many  pictures  is  the  condition  of  the 
atmosphere  or  weather  distinctly  rendered? 

9.  How  many  pictures  are  sharp,  clear  and 
realistic?  and  how  many  are  more  or  less 


312 


WOODLAND  MIST 


THE  HARVEST  FIELD 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


impressionistic?  What  are  the  advantages 
of  each  method? 

10.  How  many  of  the  compositions  shown  would 
it  be  practicable  to  reproduce  in  park  con- 
struction? 

11.  Classify  the  compositions  as  natural,  pictur- 
esque and  formal.  How  many  in  each  class? 


REGARDING  INDIVIDUAL  ARTISTS 

1.  Characterize  the  work  of  each  artist.  Mention 
the  individualities  of  each,  especially  the 
strong  points. 

2.  Point  out  individual  peculiarities  in, — 

(a)  Choice  of  materials; 

(b)  Method  of  composition; 

(c)  Method  of  treatment,  as  realistic, 
poetic,  etc.; 

(d)  Photographic  methods  and  processes. 

3.  Do  the  artists  seem  to  be  affected  by  their 
landscape  surroundings?  Is  there  any  local 
geography  apparent  in  the  individual  collec- 
tions? 

4.  Whose  work  do  you  personally  prefer?  and 
why? 

5.  Which  do  you  consider  the  best  and  second- 
best  pictures  in  the  entire  collection? 

When  the  student  of  landscape  has 
taken  to  the  study  of  pictures  he  can  well 
afford  to  go  beyond  the  photographers. 
The  great  landscape  painters  have  many 
things  to  tell.  For  them  the  landscape  has 


313 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


always  been  an  inspiration  and  a reservoir 
of  beauty.  From  it  they  have  drawn  the 
models  for  their  best  works.  What  is  there 
in  the  world  out-of-doors  which  has  ap- 
pealed to  Turner,  Millet,  Corot,  Inness  or 
Thwachtman?  It  is  worth  while  for  the 
amateur  to  try  to  answer  this  question. 

So  I have  sent  my  pupils  to  the 
painters,  and  especially  to  Corot,  not  be- 
cause painted  landscapes  are  better  than 
native  pictures,  but  because  the  selective 
skill  of  the  trained  artist  points  out  what 
is  best  in  landscape,  and  because,  also,  his 
aptitude  in  composition  often  shows  what 
arrangements  are  most  pleasing.  Because 
I happen  to  have  at  hand  an  excellent  col- 
lection of  reproductions  from  Corot,  I 
make  their  study  an  annual  exercise  for  my 
students,  and  I will  give  here  once  more  a 
list  of  questions  which  each  pupil  is  re- 
quired to  answer  at  length  from  his  study. 

OUTLINE  FOR  A STUDY  OF  COROT’S 
PICTURES 

LAND  AND  WATER 

1.  To  what  extent  does  he  use  water  in  his 
landscape? 

2.  In  what  forms — ponds,  brooks,  etc.? 


314 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


3.  Are  his  pictures  mostly  of  wild  or  cul- 
tivated land? 

4.  What  kind  of  land  does  he  choose  to 
paint — plains,  rough  land,  mountains,  etc.? 

5.  Does  he  show  any  special  preferences  with 
respect  to  contour,  grade  or  topography? 

GENERAL  COMPOSITION  AND 

TREATMENT 

6.  Are  objects  scattered  or  massed?  Criticise 
in  detail. 

7.  What  of  chiaroscuro? 

8.  What  attention  is  given  to  conditions  of 
weather? 

9.  To  the  hour  of  the  day?  In  how  many 
pictures  can  the  hour  of  the  day  be  fairly 
known  without  reference  to  title? 

TREES  AND  THEIR  TREATMENT 

10.  To  what  extent  are  trees  used  in  Corot’s 
landscapes  ? 

11.  To  what  extent  are  they  grouped? 

12.  How  are  the  groups  composed?  How 
many  trees?  How  many  species? 

13.  Are  these  groups  formal  or  informal? 

14.  How  are  the  groups  placed — background, 
middleground  or  foreground? 

15.  What  species  are  most  frequently  used? 

16.  Are  the  specimens  chosen  formal,  natural 
or  picturesque? 

17.  To  what  extent  are  shrubs  used,  and  in 
what  manner? 

18.  To  what  extent  and  in  what  manner  does 
he  use  grass,  flowering  plants,  etc.? 


315 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


Similar  exercises  can  easily  be  arranged 
on  the  basis  of  any  available  material, — for 
example,  an  accessible  art  gallery,  or  a set 
of  prints  kept  in  the  village  library.  A well- 
selected  collection  of  Copley  prints  is  ex- 
cellent, and  even  a set  of  Perry  pictures  cost- 
ing one  cent  each  will  be  well  worth  one  or 
two  exercises. 

In  all  this  study,  however,  the  pupil 
must  not  forget  the  natural  landscape.  His 
studies  are  valuable  only  in  proportion  as 
they  open  the  natural  landscape  to  his  un- 
derstanding and  enjoyment.  Outdoor 
exercises  are  therefore  best,  and  must  never 
be  omitted  from  any  course  of  instruction. 
For  students  of  some  experience  and 
maturity,  I have  used  a form  of  exercise 
which  we  call  the  “landscape  links.”  It  is 
modeled  on  the  golf  links, — one  of  the  im- 
portant uses  of  the  golf  links  being  said  to 
be  the  exhibition  of  the  landscape. 

For  this  form  of  instruction  it  is  neces- 
sary to  choose  a tract  of  land  from  one 
mile  to  ten  miles  in  length  and  breadth, 
furnished  with  a reasonable  variety  of 
scenery.  The  better  the  landscape  and  the 
distant  view,  the  more  fully  are  all  purposes 
fulfilled.  On  such  a territory  the  leader 


316 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


of  the  exercise  will  establish  a series  of 
stations,  say,  six  to  two  dozen,  correspond- 
ing to  the  holes  of  the  golf  links.  Each 
station  will  be  chosen  with  reference  to 
some  attractive  or  instructive  bit  of  land- 
scape or  outlook;  and  the  direction  of  the 
view,  as  well  as  the  precise  point  of  view, 
will  be  indicated  by  a suitable  marker.  Of 
course,  a great  deal  depends  on  the  tactful 
selection  of  the  successive  stations.  They 
should  offer  a pleasing  variety  of  pictures, 
and,  if  possible,  they  should  be  selected 
and  arranged  with  relation  to  some 
fundamental  principle.  There  ought  to  be 
some  development,  sequence  and  climax  in 
the  series.  For  example,  it  is  possible  to 
start  with  restricted  views,  showing  only 
foreground,  then  to  reach  more  extensive 
views  in  which  the  principal  objects  occupy 
middle  ground,  thence  to  views  with  inter- 
esting backgrounds,  reaching  for  a climax 
some  point  of  view  offering  a far  distant 
outlook.  Sometimes  it  is  possible  to  start 
with  the  highly  domesticated  views  in  a 
village  street,  passing  through  the  more 
open  suburbs,  thence  through  open  fields, 
and  reaching  a satisfactory  climax  in  some 
wild  ravine  or  on  some  wooded  hill. 


317 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


The  educative  value  of  such  an  exer- 
cise depends  largely  on  the  critical  analysis 
and  appreciation  of  each  picture  and  of  the 
whole  series.  The  following  series  of  ques- 
tions will  show  how  I have  had  my  own 
students  work  on  such  pastimes. 

THE  LANDSCAPE  LINKS 
PARTICULAR  VIEWS 

1.  Photograph  or  sketch  each  view. 

2.  Sketch  a ground  plan  of  each  view. 

3.  Characterize  each  view  and  classify  the 
series. 

4.  Criticise  each  view  and  classify  the  series. 

5.  Each  point  of  view  might  have  been  better 
chosen;  criticise. 

6.  Which  is  the  most  pleasing  view?  Why? 

7.  Is  the  value  of  any  view  influenced  by 
extraneous  associations? 

THE  WHOLE  COLLECTION 

1.  Is  there  any  order,  sequence,  climax  or 
other  relation  in  the  series? 

2.  Might  any  rearrangement,  addition  or 
omission  improve  the  series? 

3.  On  what  principle  should  this  series  of 
views  be  organized? 

GENERAL  QUESTIONS 

1.  Which  views  are  best, — foreground,  middle- 
ground  or  distance? 


318 


PRACTICAL  APPLICATIONS 


2.  At  what  distance  do  trees  give  the  best 
effects?  Running  water?  Still  water? 
Lawn?  Meadow? 

3.  Would  different  atmospheric  or  weather 
conditions  make  different  answers  neces- 
sary to  any  questions  on  this  sheet?  For 
instance? 

4.  Would  this  course  of  views  be  worth  while 
in  midwinter? 

Of  course,  these  suggestions  will  by  no 
means  exhaust  the  subject,  and  I hope  they 
have  not  tired  the  reader.  They  will  show, 
at  any  rate,  that  the  native  landscape,  so 
far  from  being  diffuse  and  lacking  in 
pictorial  qualities,  is  just  as  capable  of 
critical  enjoyment  as  the  works  of  Whistler 
or  Rodin;  or  that,  instead  of  being  outside 
the  reach  of  intelligent  study,  the  land- 
scape, in  fact,  offers  an  incomparable  and 
inexhaustible  material  for  the  development 
of  the  aesthetic  faculties.  In  particular,  I 
hope  it  will  seem  that  these  opportunities 
are  accessible  to  the  pupils  of  the  common 
schools,  who,  most  of  all,  lack  and  deserve 
aesthetic  instruction,  and  whom  I would 
most  gladly  serve. 


319 


Summary 


SUMMARY 


fF  the  reader  is  not  in  too  great  haste 
to  lay  down  this  book,  the  author 
would  ask  the  privilege  of  a final 
word.  The  seventeen  essays  which  comprise 
the  volume  seem  to  be  a trifle  discursive  in 
their  nature,  and  the  reader,  who  perhaps 
has  not  been  hypnotically  fascinated  with 
them,  may  have  failed  to  follow  the  thread 
of  argument  which  ought  to  hold  them  all 
together. 

We  begin  our  talks  together  under 
the  trees  or  in  the  open  fields  with  a prime 
endeavor  to  show  that  the  world  is  filled 
with  beauty  and  that  this  beauty  is  of  the 
very  greatest  import  to  us.  It  is  funda- 
mental to  our  spiritual  and  intellectual 
existence, — almost  necessary  to  our  very 
physical  life.  These  beauties  of  the  out- 
door world  are  argued  to  be  our  chief  source 
of  aesthetic  sustenance  and  growth.  Yet 
this  enormous  wealth  is  largely  unappro- 
priated, and  little  understood. 

On  careful  examination  we  find  also 
that  these  good  things  are  not  confined  to 
any  elect  persons,  to  any  favored  country, 


323 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


to  any  time  or  season.  God  looked  on  the 
world  and  saw  that  it  was  good.  The  most 
critical  of  us  are  obliged  to  agree  with  him. 
The  world  is  beautiful  in  toto,  in  all  its 
parts,  and  in  all  its  phenomena.  The 
weather  is  good,  no  matter  how  often 
polite  conversation  may  run  to  the  contrary, 
and  every  change,  from  equinox  to  solstice, 
offers  a new  spectacle  of  delight. 

This  occupies  us  through  the  first  five 
essays  of  the  book.  And  then  we  come  to 
landscape  gardening,  and  for  two  quite 
competent  reasons.  The  first  reason  is 
that  these  essays  were  all  conceived  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  landscape  architect, 
from  which  point  it  is  altogether  natural 
and  proper  to  discuss  some  more  practical 
matters  belonging  to  a highly  technical  art. 
The  second  reason  is  this:  that  as  success- 
ful landscape  making  depends  absolutely  on 
a well-attuned  love  of  natural  scenery,  so 
the  artificial  landscape,  when  sympathet- 
ically designed,  adds  new  beauties  to 
Nature’s  painting.  It  is  “the  art  which 
doth  mend  nature.”  It  clarifies  and  epi- 
tomizes the  pictures  which  we  see  some- 
times dubiously  and  imperfectly  rendered 
in  field  and  wood  and  mountain  chain.  So 


324 


SUMMARY 


the  man  who  loves  the  natural  landscape 
should  find  a double  joy  in  the  refined,  har- 
monized and  humanized  renderings  of  the 
same  themes  as  offered  by  the  artists  of 
lawn  and  lake  and  forest,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  best  landscape  architects 
have  always  derived  their  main  inspiration 
from  the  beauties  of  nature. 

These  discussions  of  landscape  garden- 
ing occupy  essays  six  to  eleven;  where- 
upon we  are  ready  to  proceed  to  some 
practical  applications.  The  nature  lover 
simply  enjoys  the  contemplation  of  such 
beauties  as  he  finds  offered;  the  landscape 
gardener  tries  to  create,  or  at  least  to  as- 
semble and  organize,  such  pictures  for 
himself  and  for  those  who  appreciate 
them.  But  he,  and  we  also,  wish  to  go 
further  and  to  make  this  art  the  means  of 
many  practical  benefits  to  society.  We 
want  to  make  the  cities  and  the  open  coun- 
try more  beautiful  and  comfortable,  as 
we  have  said  in  Essay  Twelve;  and  we  want 
to  use  this  tremendous  capital  of  beauty 
for  the  instruction  of  every  child  in  the 
public  schools,  as  outlined  in  Essay  Seven- 
teen. Incidentally,  we  notice,  in  Essays 
Fourteen  and  Fifteen,  some  applications 


325 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


of  landscape  knowledge  in  other  arts. 

Then  the  student  of  such  matters  who 
is  deeply  interested  in  these  themes  will 
want  to  examine  the  foundations  of  all 
such  knowledge.  The  psychology  of  the 
subject  will  appeal  to  him.  This  is  all 
the  more  likely  if  he  be  a teacher.  Other 
people  may  find  it  easier  and  quite  as 
profitable  just  to  omit  Essay  Fifteen. 

Finally,  once  more,  let  us  all  enjoy  to 
the  utmost  the  good  and  beautiful  world 
we  have  had  given  to  us.  We  will  daily 
praise  it  and  give  God  thanks.  Thus  will 
we  be  prepared  to  enjoy  a better  world  if 
God  sees  fit  to  give  us  one. 


326 


Index 


Index 


PAGE 

American  Landscape 99 

American  Landscape  Gardeners  . . .153 

American  Landscape  Gardening  . . . . 1x5 

American  Masterpieces 181 

Amherst,  Massachusetts 307 

Art  and  Utility 242 

Art  for  Art’s  Sake 241 

Art  Which  Mends  Nature 85 

Applications 301 

Association 293 

Authority  on  Beauty 283 

B 

Bailey,  L.  H 72,  175,  257 

Beautiful  Amherst 307 

Beautiful  vs.  Picturesque 36 

Beauty,  Its  Nature 273 

Beauty  of  Landscape 269 

Berlin,  Germany 303 

Bible,  The 261 

Billboard  Nuisance 217 

Brooks  '!  49 

Bryant,  W.  C 258 

Burnham,  Daniel  H 189 


329 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


PAGE 


Burns,  Robert 258 

Burroughs,  John 257 


C 

Central  Park,  New  York 184 

Chiaroscuro 91 

Chicago  Parks 197 

Chicago  World’s  Fair 186 

City  Design 244 

City  Planning 208 

Climate 75 

Cloud  Pictures 60 

Colonial  Gardening 116 

Connecticut 108 

Conservation  of  Resources 220 

Corot’s  Paintings 314 

Country  Planning 207 

Criticism 139 

Criticism,  Purposes  of 145 

Criticism,  Difficulties  of 145 

Cyclones  63 


D 

Decorative  Use  of  Landscape 241 

Diversity  of  American  Landscape  ....  104 

Downing,  Andrew  Jackson  . 120,  131,  155,  200 

Downing’s  Disciples 156 

Drama  and  Landscape 259 

Dramatic  Criticism 142 


330 


INDEX 


Elements  of  Landscape 43 

Eliot,  Charles 170,  195 

Environment,  Power  of 20 

Exercises  for  Students 312 

Experience  of  Beauty 281 

Expression 293 


F 


Farm  Improvements 218 

Far  Outlook 290 

Fields 105 

Field  of  Criticism 139 

Franklin  Park,  Boston 190 

Fruit  Trees 214 


G 

Gallagher,  Percival 173 

Geography  and  Landscape 107 

German  Cities 243 

Graceland  Cemetery,  Chicago 192 

Great  Lakes,  The 105 


H 

Harrisburg,  Pennsylvania 201 


Health 75 

Historic  Spots 216 

Holmes,  Oliver  W 258 

Homesickness 22 


331 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


PAGE 

Improvement  of  the  Open  Country  ....  207 

Italian  Style  in  America 124 

J 

Jensen,  Jens 174,  198 

Jesus  and  the  Landscape 262 

Job 262 

K 

Kansas  Roads 212 

Keney  Park,  Hartford 196 

Kinosuke  Adachi  (Quoted) 100 

Knowledge  of  Beauty 280 

L 

Lakes 50 

Landscape  Art 87 

Landscape  Gardeners 153 

Landscape  Gardening 85 

Landscape  Gardening  and  the  Weather  79 

Landscape  in  Literature 253 

Landscape  Links 316 

Landscape  Ownership 228 

Landscape  Resources 129 

Landscape  Study 316 

Landscapes,  Definition 58 

, Laws  of  Composition 270 

Learning  to  Like  Things 282 


332 


INDEX 


PAGE 

L’Enfant 200 

Life,  Relation  to  Landscape 15 

Literary  Criticism 140 

Literature  and  the  Landscape 253 

Local  Color 255 

Looking  at  the  Sky 57 

Lowell,  J.  R 258 

M 

Manning,  Warren  H 172,  201 

Masterpieces  of  Landscape  Architecture  . . 181 

McPherson,  Kansas 212 

Methods  of  Teaching 305 

Metropolitan  Park  Reservation,  Boston  . . 195 

Ministry  of  Trees 31 

Mountains 45,  106 

Mount  Mansfield 47 

Mount  Royal,  Montreal 189 

Mount  Vernon 234 

Muddy  Brook  Parkway 192 

N 

National  Forest  Reserves 229 

O 

Obstacles  in  Landscape  Gardening  ....  92 

Olmsted  Brothers 172,  196 

Olmsted,  Frederick  L.,  Sr.,  123,  132,  160,  190,  191 


333 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


PAGE 

Olmsted,  Works  of 161 

Olmsted’s  Work  Characterized 163 

Olmsted  and  Vaux 89 

Open  Country 207 

Ownership  of  Scenery 227 


P 

Painting  and  Landscape 245 

Painting  Compared  With  Landscape  . . 129 

Parker,  Geo.  A 169,  196 

Parks  of  Chicago 197 

Parks,  Use  of 304 

Parmentier,  Andre 154 

Pedagogic  Methods 305 

Photographs  of  Landscapes 310 

Photography  and  Weather 78 

Photography  of  Skies 59 

Picnic  Grounds 236 

Picturesqueness 36 

Plains 51 

Platt,  Chas.  A 124,  173 

Playgrounds 231,  235 

Poetry  of  Trees 34 

Practical  Applications 301 

Preservation  of  Scenery 216 

Professional  vs.  Amateur  . 301 

Psychology 269 

Public  Ownership 228 

Puffer,  Miss  (Quoted) 277 


334 


INDEX 


PAGE 

Rainbow 292 

Repton,  Humphrey 1 21,  160 

Reservations  of  Scenery 230 

Riley,  James  Whitcomb 258 

Rivers 48 

Roads 209 

Roadside  Trees 214 

Robinson,  Charles  M 244 

Rural  Improvements 218 

S 

Santayana,  Professor  (Quoted)  . . . . 88,  275 

Sargent,  Professor  C.  S . . 175 

Scenery  Ownership . .227 

Scenic  Roads 215 

School  Exercises 307 

Scott,  Frank  J 157 

Seasonal  Changes 90 

Shakespeare 259 

Simonds,  O.  C 173,  *93 

Sky,  The 57 

Snowfall 62 

Stars,  The 63 

State  Parks 231 

Stiles,  W.  A 175 

Study  of  Paintings 314 

Sublimity 102 

Summary 323 


335 


THE  LANDSCAPE  BEAUTIFUL 


PAGE 

Sunset 292 

Surveys  of  Resources 220 

T 

Thoreau,  Henry  D 258 

Town  Parks 235 

Tree  Planting 214 

Trees 31 

Trees  in  America 106 

U 

Unity  of  Landscape 289 

V 

Vaux,  Calvert 169 

Vandervelde,  Chas 245 

Versatility  of  American  Landscape  . . . .104 

Village  Improvement 207 

W 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley 15 

Washington,  D.  C 199 

Weather  . 71 

Whatley,  Thomas 256 

Wildness  of  American  Landscape  ....  103 

World’s  Fair  at  Chicago 186 

Worship  of  Trees 36 


336 


